


Piece by piece

by pixiepuff (colourmecrunchy)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Bickering, Humor, M/M, a scene of minor violence, dancing around each other like even bigger pros, falling in love like biggest pros, hanging out like pros, happy ending because HELLO, merlin rpf big bang challenge, some vague drug abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourmecrunchy/pseuds/pixiepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Parked-inspired</em> AU where Colin is unfortunately homeless but incessantly jubilant, so Bradley naturally finds him certifiably bananas - and must therefore spend with him as much time as possible;</p><p>swimming pools are being swam at (where they find Wilma but no Fred), cars are being taken out for test rides (where Bradley and the dealer have a mini contest in pouting at Colin), bear-mating rituals are being discussed, and two slightly broken and unknowingly lost men are being put back together one piece at a time by each other.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Colin isn't used to people smiling at him. It doesn't happen often and he's not quite sure if it's a good or a bad thing. He'd probably be running by now, but this is Bradley, and despite his obviously loaded ass (and a dad that may or may not be a dentist) he seems harmless. So Colin stays put where he is and tentatively smiles back. There, see. He can do social.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i could paint your silhouette

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. So I know nearly _nothing_ about Colin and Bradley's families, and I allowed myself to be quite vague and unspecific and liberal with my ideas in that area. If you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, I would be ever so grateful :)
> 
> 2\. Most of you know how _Parked_ ends, but do not fret my lovelies, this work is only inspired by it -- I could never actually forgive myself if I took Colin away from Bradley. It literally cannot be done.
> 
> 3\. My eternal gratitude and love (for her work and our epic drunken nights in her flat) to Gigi, my beta. I made a few changes after she was done, so any mistakes after that are, of course, my own.  
> This was all written for her. ♥ you.
> 
> 4\. The title itself, as well as the names of the chapters were taken from David Pfeffer's song Piece by piece.
> 
> 5\. link for art masterpost: http://obliqueo.livejournal.com/14046.html

 

[ ](http://s275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Moxy_Kitkat/?action=view&current=header_by_eposicee-d5k677i.png)

_ 16/09/2011 _

 

Colin only wanted to get some new cheap-ass razors. He swears. Because what would a guy like him be in the mall for anyway? It's not like he had any desires for an impromptu shopping spree even if he _had_ the money. Which he didn't, you know, and contrary to the popular belief that young, semi-homeless blokes should be depressed about the no-money prospect, he wasn't. He swears on _that_ too. So maybe he wasn't the _happiest_ man alive, but what was happiness anyway - just the other day he saw a quote saying _happiness should be spelled hapenis_ and had a proper snorting fit, followed by an instant surge of compassion for the poor gay sod who wrote that. Colin could relate; cocks weren't really in abundance or just lying around, probably as rare as a fucking Lamborghini in these parts, which made them sort of a commodity. And elevated their status to _highly unobtainable_ , which, yeah, ranked them up there somewhere with money and happiness indeed, so the graffiti kid truly _wasn't_ all that far off with his philosophy.

 

Colin sighed.

 

Sometimes, he felt sorry for his own cock. Clearly something you _owned_ shouldn't be considered an uncommon rarity, but to have this piece of equipment that sometimes pleaded with you, or begged you, and then proceeded to scream and sulk, even, at the very end - always in this order without a fault - to just have a _heart_ , god, and let it meet others of its kind, was a complication he wasn't that keen on adding to the list of everything else.

Because semi-homeless cocks weren't something people would really wait in line to see. Or touch. Or anything of that sort.

 

So yeah. He was only here to buy that stupid razor, because he figured that semi-homeless, full-on beard-faced cocks had even less chance of ever having any hapenis ever again, so Colin was pretty anal (ha) about keeping up appearances. Maybe someday someone will see beneath the colour-uncoordinated clothes (at least they fit!) and his stupid ears and the whole i-don't-have-a-home thing, and ask him out for a drink. To which he'd gladly respond because if there was one thing he needn't worry about, it was the _don't drink and drive_ rule. Right. Colin snorted - he realized he was doing an awful lot of that, lately, but when you're forced to make your own fun, you gotta go with everything you have.

Which was, in his case, not a lot. If he didn't count the just-acquired _4 for 3_ razors, the clothes he had on, and few other things he stored in his tiny yellow car (low on petrol but high on enthusiasm) was really all he could call his, and to be quite frank he wasn't sure someone won't come and confiscate the bloody car anyway. Which would be rather unfortunate because then Colin would become the _completely_ -homeless cock and the prospect of ever having any kind of hapenis would surely diminish _altogether_. 

 

He didn't _steal_ the car, if that's what you mean. He found it on the edge of the vehicle demolition site and it seemed someone towed it there to get rid of it, but the thing looked fine to Colin and when he spent the last of his well-earned money (so maybe asking people for money didn't seem like a hard job, but if you count the humiliation part and the long hours acquiring it and _still_ think begging is easy, then Colin would like to see _you_ try) on a few ounces of petrol to drive the thing away to a deserted parking lot by the coast. Maybe he could find a bigger car that'd still work, more space for legs and all that, or one with a big trunk where he could hide when everything just became too much (or he took a little too much of that thing he referred to as Oblivion), but Colin kinda, sorta, _maybe_ possibly fell in love with the round yellow piece of metal.

 

Because it _gleamed_ in the sun and was in good condition against all odds, and the horn made such a happy sound and not to be vain, or egomaniacal, or see the world through pink goggles, but Colin felt the car was a bit like him, or that he was a bit like it, or at least he _strived_ to be all _that_ , and what better way to stay motivated than living in such quarters?

_Anyway_. Sometimes he got so excited over his own ideas he felt like _he_ should be the picky one and not be so desperate for just anyone wanting his semi-homeless cock, because clearly one as mentally capable as him shouldn't just take whatever he could get, even if the offers were few and far in between. He may be a semi-homeless cock, but he was a funny one at that, and that, _that_ made all the difference.

 

He had time to kill, so _much_ of it, really - that's all he truly had enough of, and sometimes he fantasized he was one of the timelords, his own Doctor in a yellow, car shaped Tardis who fought the baddies of the universe with his good spirits, zapping them away with the power of his ears while blasting Yellow submarine from the car radio. 

Also, as a Doctor, he could get cocks without a problem.

 

It was a good fantasy, one Colin indulged himself with more often than not - what was the harm in it anyway - painting his own reality with tiny little things that gave his life a little more meaning?

 

So as someone who could control time, he liked to dawdle in the shopping centre. Usually people came to do some window shopping, but since _he_ wasn't looking inside the stores anyway, he called it _people_ shopping. Which, he knows sounds a bit, er, awkward at best and creepy as fuck at worst, but that's what he was doing. He found a nice little unobtrusive and secluded bench, sat down and watched people. He wasn't going to buy anyone, Jesus, but it was kinda mesmerizing - the crowd moving as a mass of its own, bustling and buzzing and while people moved in all sorts of directions, they still seemed like a well-coordinated bunch, an odd dance of side-stepping and avoiding and bumping, and sometimes, Colin singled people out. Sad ones, bored ones, happy ones, busy ones, rich ones, those with weird glasses, those with too many children; sometimes there were people who looked like they have no grasp of their surroundings, and sometimes, some of them glared at him right back. Those were always a particular bunch, because they looked at him in this weird way like they _knew_ \- and, what exactly did they know, Colin had no idea, but sometimes he _suspected_.

_Shit_ , he thought on those occasions. I've been discovered. I've compromised my timelord identity and will have to recharge with another body.

And usually, when those kind of thoughts occurred, he was reminded exactly why his cock was a lonely one. But he refused to change on the principle.

 

Today he didn't even get to the _finding a bench_ bit, because someone seemed so utterly helpless and lost and frustrated that Colin could feel it from three shops away. Which was kinda odd now that he comes to think about it and he'll definitely need to reconsider this whole _it's just a fantasy, you don't actually have any special powers_ , but he swears he could feel the agitation rolling off of that lone figure, standing a bit to the left of the public toilets and working his lower lip like he was trying to break the world record.

Colin thought it might not be a bad idea to just go and walk by. As a _doctor_ , he could help. Maybe. Just assess the situation and if the prognosis was _don't fucking bother,_ he'll go and do just that. The closer he came, though, it was obvious the bloke shouldn't look as put out as this one did, because in Colin's mind, no one who seemed to be _that_ well-off had any good reason to not prance around like a squirrel on drugs and burst into a song on random occasions. Colin didn't like the rich folk, but hell, even _he_ 'd join in on a song if it made the poor sod smile. No one could accuse Colin of not being helpful. Plus, he had a yellow car, he had a reputation to live up to.

 

But no. This bloke wore jeans that Colin just _knew_ cost more than all his possessions combined and was stupidly well-built and it took honestly less than even that one glance at his pose to know he was one of those who withheld their cock from the less fortunate crowd. One of the Teasers. One of the _God gave me all this but you can't have any_. And it wasn't even that Colin wanted any of that, but the fact still stood. _Still_ , Colin wouldn't let himself differentiate between people in need, no, he was awesome like that so he just walked by once. And then again. And again.

 

On his fourth passing, the bloke in question snapped.

"What do you want?"

 

Ah. Cranky, much? One of those, then, as well.  "Just walking around, you know."

"No, I don't, and could you walk around somewhere else?"

"What, do you _own_ this bit of the floor?"

 

Mister Richcock opened his mouth like he wanted to continue this weird bickering, but then just looked exasperated. Almost a bit _embarrassed_ as well, Colin thought and wondered if his emotions radar was off, or did loaded, confident people actually have the matrix for _insecure_ present in their genes as well, because this was unheard of and just begged to be examined further.

 

"I'm in a bit of a situation."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What could be so awful?"

"I -"

 

And then Expensivejeans just looked even more embarrassed as before. Colin would be enjoying this if he didn't feel so out of depth - since when did cocky and flustered go well together in _any_ universe?

"Yes?" He prompted, and then wondered if dragging the _s_ out like some weird half-snake half-idiot didn't actually make the matters worse.

 

"Ican'tfindmycar."

 

" _What_?"

And it's not that Colin didn't hear it the first time, he did, it would be impossible _not_ to with ears this big, and the other bloke looked like he really didn't want to repeat what he said, but Colin couldn't help himself. Because seriously, being someone whose car was the most important thing in the world to him, his - if not house, then surely a shelter, his bright, promising place that the world wasn't as fucked up as people believed it to be, his little yellow tin can filled with hopes and dreams and sometimes imaginary buttons and machines for his space travels, and this guy, this _idiot_ here didn't know where _his_ car was? Colin had half a mind to just walk away because there was only so much he could do, or was willing to do with spoiled rich brats, when the other bloke deflated.

 

"Just forget about it."

"But -"

"I said - "

"How can you _not_ know where your car is?"

"I left it here last night and went clubbing and crashed at my mate's, and now I don't know where it is because it's not where I thought I left it, and why the fuck am I even _telling_ you this?"

"Beats _me_."

"Yeah."

"Want me to help you look?"

"Please."

 

The plea threw Colin off, he'll admit. Because he was quite ready to just wave and go because it wasn't as if the bloke couldn't just go down to the nearest car dealership and get a new one, right, but then he looked up at him, lost, and hopeful, and Colin just thought god damn it. God _damn_ it.

 

"I suppose two pair of eyes is better than one, yeah," he added weakly and followed Puppyeyes out.

They descended a couple of flights of stairs - the old, traditional way, and Colin shot a longing look at the electric ones that stood right _there_ , all alone and begging to be used and damn, he's going to burn all the calories he managed to consume today, thanks a lot, when the other guy, apparently his newly self-appointed working out trainer or something, turned to him.

 

"I'm Bradley, by the way."

"Oh, good. Now I can stop giving you names in my head."

"What?"

"Nicknames, you know. Monikers. Descriptions-turned-capitalized-first names. Hi, Bradley. I'm Colin."

"What did you call me in your head?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

 

Colin smirked, watching how Bradley went from confused to exasperated to pouty all over the place in a manner of 5 seconds. The almost-offended look was highly entertaining and Colin thought _1-0 for me,_ but then really, the pouting thing was a bit of rules regulations breech because didn't everybody know that in fair play, one must not use manipulative force to distract the opponent?

And. He wasn't really _distracted_ , per se. Just because Bradley told him his name and then did that thing with his lips didn't mean he was getting fond of him in any way. So he wouldn't use the word distracted. Maybe - maybe more like _prone to diversions_ , and someone exercising their lips in front of him definitely meant Colin's attention will jump at this weird and most rare sight-seeing.

 

"I'm not telling you."

 

There. He could say no to people, see? No matter what foul play they tried against him.

Bradley huffed out an annoyed groan then - which did nothing, absolutely nothing at weakening Colin's resolve but instantly found its way on the yellow-card offenses list - and pressed on.

"You can't tell people something like that and then refuse to tell them. It's like - ... I don't know, it's like saying you have a secret and then keeping your mouth shut. Or saying you saw or read something great but you won't share."

"Maybe you're just too used to getting everything you want."

"No, this is the common decency rule. Like if two people go in the same direction and it's pissing it down and there's only one umbrella, they share it. Or, if your neighbour is out of sugar you lend them some, not give them like salt instead. Stop giving me salt, Colin."

 

Colin gaped. This was _fun_.

"Okay, so what you're saying is I'm refusing you common decency. And here I was, thinking that offering you help with finding your car was exactly that. _Silly me_. Also, if I was the one with umbrella I'd chuck it and dare you to race me in the rain. And as it goes for the sugar, I'm not giving you any because I can tell pretty much by just looking at you that you don't actually cook."

 

It was Bradley's turn to process the verbal vomit Colin loved so much, and he wondered, briefly, if Bradley will take offense, but he didn't mean it as such because he was pretty sure his eyes were fucking _gleaming_ throughout their exchange, he could _feel_ it, and if Bradley failed his body language class, well, that really wasn't Colin's problem.

Bradley snorted. "Touché."

"What?"

"I really can't cook."

 

Colin grinned but then nudged him forward, because as pleasant as tossing the ball between them was, standing at the middle of the stairs _wasn't_ , and Colin had to admit two things started bothering him. One, they were drawing attention because the two of them really didn't look alike at all - someone as nicely dressed and built as Bradley just didn't seem plausible to have an idle chat with someone who looked like _Colin_ , and Colin's done some begging around this place before and maybe people thought he's doing it again and they'll get security or something, and he panicked a little bit, okay, and the _other_ thing was - Bradley's car looked like the last thing on Bradley's mind right now, and that just annoyed Colin because hello, dude, your _car_ , he'd be flipping shit if _his_ car was missing. Sometimes he wondered  what nature thought when it created rich people. It must have been stoned out of its mind.

(In which case it could give Colin a call, he'd come over and keep it company; he's not an unselfish person.)

 

"So what does it look like?"

"What?"

"Your ride."

"Oh."

Colin rolled his eyes and then overtook him on the stairs and skipped downwards.

"A mini."

 

Right. "What?"

Colin was glad Bradley couldn't see his face right now because suddenly this whole thing sounded a whole lot like some weird innuendo about sizes. And, he was pretty sure it in fact wasn't one, because he just couldn't picture Bradley having a mini sized gear shift. Maybe he had an automatic and he didn't know how to handle one? Or. Erm. Okay that was highly unlikely because people like Bradley surely knew what to do with their appendages, and this whole thing started to sound really weird, even inside his head, so it might be best if he dropped it. It would be a Doctor thing to do, to know when to give up.

 

"What are you driving?"

"Oh, a mini Cooper."

"Is that one of those obnoxious square boxes?"

"Is that your highly developed skill of describing things? Because if that's the best you can do, I don’t think I actually want to know what you called _me_ in your head."

"Don't worry, I didn't call you square and obnoxious."

"Good."

"Though that wouldn't be far off, actually." Colin stroked his chin pompously. " _Hmm_. Maybe cars and their owners _are_ alike, like they say about people and their dogs."

"If that's true then your car is too _frolicky_ for its own good. _And_ it gives you a pain in the neck."

"You forgot out of line parking and only an occasional oil change."

"Oh, _eww_."

 

Colin barked out a laugh and smirked at Bradley.

[ ](http://s275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Moxy_Kitkat/?action=view&current=parking_by_eposicee-d5k64da.png)

 

*****

 

In the next thirty minutes, Colin learned three new things:

_One_ , Bradley's mini was red.

Because Bradley _told_ him so, not because he'd actually _seen_ it. Which brings him straight to number two, actually. 

And number two was, that the car must have been stolen. Because they couldn't find it anywhere. Mini Coopers weren't that rare and there were a few around in all the colours of the rainbow, but none of them were Bradley's red. Bradley's good - or, maybe that wasn't his _good_ mood, Colin didn't actually know the guy, maybe it was his cranky mood or something, but honestly, it felt on the positive side - spirits deteriorated faster than Colin could come up with silly ideas to counteract the gloom that followed. He stuck around while Bradley called one of his mates to pick him up and drive him to the police station and then walked away with a wave.

As he was rounding the corner, Bradley looked so small and pathetic, mourning the loss of his car, that Colin just had to shout back, _I called you Richcock Expensivejeans_ , and got a tentative smirk that momentarily lit up Bradley's face in reply.

 

When he was walking back to his car, faster than usual because he had an inexplicable urge to run away, as much as he didn't know what he was running away from, revelation number three happened:

He was lonely as _fuck_.


	2. just like a fading light

Colin had a dark side.

 

Or, maybe it shouldn't be called _that_ , because it makes him sound like some Darth Vader, or Sauron, or at least like an unstable, creepy, evil Easter bunny, (which was by far the worst because the other two dudes were at least _cool_ ) so _no_. Perhaps it's best to start again.

Colin had a _darker_ side. He wasn't sure when the thing started, or was created, or if that was even the case - maybe it was always inside him, submerged, latent, quietly waiting - but the fact of the matter was, it was there. Manageable most of the time, but sometimes, sometimes it seeped out, unrelenting, all-consuming, over bearing and demanding and Colin didn't find it in him to resist.

 

What for? If the lighter shades of black decided to have a little dance with him, why not? Who was he to deny anyone their fun? Especially if they promised to include him, make him star of the party, belle of the ball, even, and bring him blissful indifference and insensibleness for a little while.

And the thing was, it didn't feel like _not_ feeling at all. Which was what was so fantastic about it. Drugs were to numb the pain, after all, and yet everything Colin felt increased tenfold. His indifference didn't mean disregarding everything around him and everything he was, but rather giving in to what he tried to ignore for days and weeks on end, and then he finally _didn't_ anymore; he plunged in and took a lungful of that black stench and then the _knowing_ bit, the being aware of things and not turning away anymore made them _familiar_ , and _his_ in a way, and this odd fellowship made it all less scary and thus Colin wasn't afraid anymore.

He'd like to think it was special things that awoken all of this inside him. But it wasn't, not really. The homelessness bit probably acted as a switch, an enabler, the loud and clear _all right, let's bring some hell into this little uncharted place_ but it wasn't the actual trigger for the need to get himself lost - so lost even he won't be able to find himself again for hours on end.

 

It was the little things. It's _always_ the little things, isn't it? And, yeah, it's usually meant in a good way, the positive little things that make someone's day better, but Colin supposes it works both directions. A double-edged sword. No light without the dark. His little things called fourth the dark abyss that was always lurking somewhere in the back of his mind and teasing him, seducing him with its promises of twisted intimacy that his delirious mind had to offer in its worst stages of fix.

Sometimes it was enough if someone told him to get lost. That he didn't deserve to be there. Sometimes people looked at him with such repulsed pity that his own stomach twisted at it. Sometimes _no one_ looked at him for days, as if he wasn't even there, a living, breathing life-form but an invisible little raincloud that was harmless enough that people couldn't even find the will to acknowledge him.

Sometimes, it wasn't even about _him_. And those, as weird as it sounds, were probably the worst kind of triggers of all. Because slowly, very slowly but still, it happens as a steady snail-paced progress, you get used to the crap, headed your way. You do. But nothing, and absolutely nothing gets you used to the cruelty that happens where you can't be nothing but an onlooker, a powerless observer, and those cases made the very bottom of Colin's spirit ache with unfairness of the world.

Somewhere between all the animal cruelty he'd seen, and the verbal as well as the physical abuse people sprung upon others, usually upon the weaker ones, and the endless race for the profit where good people are only means to an end, to be stomped on and left in the mud, broke Colin's heart.

 

In the end, it made perfect sense, actually. Someone's heartlessness breaks your purity and you are forever stranded and searching for the aid that will either mend you or make the pain easier to endure.

 

Sometimes he told himself to stop being such a girl. And to stop reading the newspapers. But then he noticed his regular little army of pigeons waiting for him to toss them the crumbs of his sandwich, to _groo_ at him afterwards and keep him company, maybe help him fight off some persistent Daleks later (whose never-ending _Exterminate_! line was getting a bit ridiculous and Colin wished whole-heartedly they'd take a hint and brainstorm for something wittier and more menacing), and _then_ he decided that _feeling_ things was actually good.

 

It was also, sadly, almost always on those evenings that he took his hidden stash out.

The evening after he'd met Bradley, however, was the worst by far.

Because this time, no one told him he was worthless. Words directed at him weren't full of venom or of that terrible negligence and no one kicked a dog in front of his eyes.

This time, Colin was treated as an equal, of sorts, in a friendly banter that pressed all the right dark buttons in him, reminding him of everything he was without, showing him what could have been, if only his life played out a little differently. That little touch with a contrasting reality, a small glimpse into real, tangible human relations made him ache, and shake with the sheer want of reconnecting with another human being. He was hungry for the simplest kind of touches, even the meaningless ones - _especially_ the meaningless ones, because those kind of touches meant two people are close, and he _needed_ to be close to someone.

So he cursed at Bradley.  And then he got completely stoned.


	3. that's just the way you are

_ 30/09/2011 _

__

So Colin realizes he needs to go back to the shopping centre. He does. He's not out of razors or deodorant just yet, but he might be soon, you know, and he really hates being unprepared. He also thinks maybe digging out some cheap nearly free woollen gloves might be a good idea, since it's getting colder and someone's nicked his old ones at the swimming pool a few days ago. Colin remembers this, and just shakes his head every time, because _really_? Unless it was another homeless sod like him, he doesn't get why anyone would have the need to take his pathetic moth-eaten gloves away. And a pound or two is a _lot_ of money. Money you won't have later for a cup of hot tea or to get new toiletries, and it makes Colin sad _and_ mad a little bit at the same time.

It makes his _smad_.

 

So you see, he really has to go to the shops. It has everything to do with the missing gloves and a rumbling stomach, and nothing with whom he might stumble upon there. _Nothing_. He swears.

 

Only that he knows, deep down and also pretty high up that this is a lie and that lying to yourself is the easiest thing to do. For the past week, he's been trying to relive the witty banter, the stimulating ball-toss of words and jokes he was exposed to and included in so lightly, and with every new day, he forgets one of the little details despite trying to memorize every single syllable.

And this saddens him. When he can't remember one of the jabs or who actually overtook whom on those stairs, Colin goes and plays with the pigeons. And with his car. And goes for a walk. He tells himself it's fine, that he was fine before and he'll continue to be fine afterwards as well, he tells himself that unscheduled little encounters of another kind shouldn't shake up his world like this. He's his own person, independent to a fault, not feeling incomplete or empty at all, and thus definitely not needing anyone to bring any complexity with them into his life.

 

Other people are a chore, he tells himself. A nuance. Nuisance. They expect things from you; you suddenly have to change everything you are, put them first and pretend their problems are bigger than yours. Like, who would _ever_ want that? Colin sure as hell doesn't.

Forget his little stunt last week and his moment of weakness, he's not sure what that was - it was a bit out of character, all that moodiness after he got back to his car - but there's nothing a night of getting high wouldn't fix. He fixed it. He promises.

 

Most of the time, he manages to fool himself into thinking this is true just fine.

 

Until he turns a corner after exiting Primark, pulling on a new pair of gloves he just bought (which came with a complimentary strawberry Vaseline and he's not quite sure why he pocketed _that_ too) and sees a familiar sight in front of _S. Oliver for Men_.

Bradley, of all people, is sitting there, looking for all intentions and purposes like a model for said manufacturer - he's dressed fine enough, and he looks just the right amount of depressed and pathetic to be of the fashion world crowd. _Lord_ knows those sods are never happy. Colin has half a mind to ignore the blinding sight because it is rather unprecedented. He doesn't just _see_ familiar people and feel the urge to go over and talk to them, as if doing so would be welcomed and even _encouraged_ , but there he is, and it's exactly how it feels, and Colin crosses the hall before his brain can even start working on the list of why this is a colossally bad idea.

 

He sits down next to Bradley.

"Lost another car?"

Bradley starts, and jerks into the opposite direction, and then just stares at him.

"Colin the curious bloke from the shopping centre."

"And you are Bradley, Chronically out of cars and good ideas for a conversation."

"Why are you here?"

"Are we going to do this again? You pretending this place belongs to you?"

 

Bradley sighed and seemed like he wanted to fold in on himself. He looked so lost, _again_ , a look that was apparently at home on his face and suiting him well, but Colin preferred him with his mischief turned _on_. He felt the urge to just touch his shoulder, or _something_ , and was all in all quite proud of himself for not acting on it. Still, when Bradley just sighed again, Colin felt something inside, something that was a bit exasperated and a lot annoyed, melt, and nearly stuck his foot in his mouth for his next words.

 

"Come on, let's go get some coffee."

 

Bradley looked up at him, and for a moment Colin felt relief, because it appeared Bradley will decline, and Colin thought please please _please_ say no, but then -

 

"Yeah okay."

 _Crap_.

 

*****

 

So here they were, in one of the pubs, each of them holding a take away coffee cup, with Bradley staring at the rest of the people there, completely oblivious to Colin's inner struggle. And when he says _struggle..._ Okay, imagine this. Imagine you're homeless. Or _semi_ -homeless or whatever. And that this week's _ailments for the poor_ \- which was naturally just a fancier expression for some begging -didn't bring in much money at all, not to mention the stolen gloves incident from the swimming pool on top of that.

And that despite this whole _I am so broke not even other homeless people envy me_ , he goes and buys Bradley coffee. Because the other bloke _looked sad_. Colin is wondering what his life has become, if he is going to have such a bad attitude towards money, when Bradley interrupts his thoughts.

 

"I had a fight with my father."

"With your dad?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because of the car, duh."

"Well yeah, I figured that was the case but I thought I'd rather ask just in case it wasn't, because then things would get really awkward."

" _Get_? Things are awkward _now_?"

" _I_ , uhm _._ No?" _Well done. That didn't sound weak at all._

"You're strange, Colin."

"Yes well. What happened after I left the other day, then? You called the police?"

"Yeah, we did all the paper stuff but they told me not to have much hope."

 

Colin shrugged. "I'm sorry to hear that, I _am_ , but - "

"What?"

"Can't you just get a new one?"

"Ah."

"What?"

"This is where my father comes in."

"Did he at least knock first?"

"What?"

"You know, before _coming in_. The _knock knock_."

"Who's there?"

 

Colin stares at Bradley for a little bit. _Right_. Of all the potential future-acquaintances-turned-friends, he gets the _special_ one. And then he decides to go along with it.

 

"Bradley's dad."

"Bradley's dad who?"

"The bunny dentist Bradley's dad, I don't bloody know, do I?"

 

Bradley looks taken aback. "The _bunny_ dentist?"

"He _could_ be?"

"My father isn't a dental technician for rodents."

"Rabbits aren't rodents."

"What?"

"Never mind. I just took a wild guess in case it was the right one. Bunny dentists do seem a bit conservative, you know. They spend most of their days in the operation room, fixing little teethies and can't even talk to bunnies while they do it in case bunnies would get excited. The kind of people that go all crazy if their son's car gets stolen."

"Colin, what -"

"So if I'm right and you're just too embarrassed to admit it, it's fine, you know? You can just tell me. I won't judge."

"Oh my god."

 

Bradley is _smiling_. And it wasn't even Colin's intention, you know, he wasn't going for charming or funny or trying to make Bradley feel better, although he suspects the _last_ one is a lie; he was just being himself, and opened the flap from his brain to his mouth and the bunny thing just fell out, and now Bradley is smiling, of all things.

 

Well fuck.

 

Colin isn't used to people smiling at him. It doesn't happen often and he's not quite sure if it's a good or a bad thing. He'd probably be running by now, but this is Bradley, and despite his obviously loaded ass (and a dad that may or may not be a dentist) he seems harmless. So Colin stays put where he is and tentatively smiles back. There, see. He can do social.

 

"Colin I'm not even going to pretend I know what goes on in your head."

"Oh, please. Don't pretend you're not itching to join in."

 

Bradley takes a sip of his coffee and looks up, faking disdain, but then -

"Not a bunny dentist, god, Colin. And I thought you had some wit in that head of yours. Everyone could tell by just looking at a picture of my father that he couldn't be a bunny dentist. Maybe more like general of the bunny _army_ , wanting to take over the world with radioactive carrots and white fluffy tails that are full of knives, but he wouldn't go near their _teeth_."

"Show me his picture then."

"What?"

"It's clearly the reason I misjudged him. Let me have a go."

"Oh okay."

 

Bradley reaches back into his pocket and fishes out a wallet. When he hands over a small photo, Colin can tell something is making Bradley tense again. He doesn't know what it is, but he knows he doesn't like it. And he feels very _Doctor-y_ at this new discovery.

He takes a look.

 

"Wow."

"What?"

"Your father."

"Please don't say you've just developed a crush on him or something."

"No. But I see what you meant."

"So you agree?"

"Ah, no."

"No?"

"It was valiant attempt, I'll give you that. But he's not the general of the bunny army."

"Then pray, tell, what he does for a job."

"He actually recruits Santas."

"What?"

"He recruits them and trains them, teaches them the secrets of being good at observing and watching, because Santas don't actually work for the benefit of children, no, they've developed this whole conspiracy theory how everyone is after their position and they believe the North pole is in danger."

"And my father is on top of all this?"

"Oh yeah yeah, he was one of the co-founders of the whole Keep North pole safe doctrine, and they're so sneaky about this, I gotta give them that. Everyone else thinks they're some environmentalist group, while in reality -"

"They train people to dress as Santas to spy for them all over the world? Get rid of the threats before it gets dirty?"

"Mate Chuck Norris fears them."

 

Bradley snorts into his styrofoam cup and then sobers up.

"You got that bit right."

"How do you know Chuck Norris is afr- oh my god you've _met_ Chuck Norris?"

"Colin."

"What?"

" _Everyone_ is afraid of my father."

"Even you?"

 

Bradley looks at him in surprise, obviously not expecting something like this from Colin.

"Even _me_ , yes."

"But."

"What?"

"You have all these muscles, and you're cocky and sure and - "

"That doesn't mean anything."

"I just assumed you talked to everyone in the same way."

"Not to my father."

"Because of respect or something?"

"You telling me you don't respect your father?"

"Not anymore."

 

Colin didn't like where this was going. He wasn't ready to share stuff about himself yet, not even with Bradley whom he'd met only twice so far, or maybe _especially_ not Bradley because if he sees how fucked up everything is, and how it affected Colin and in what kind of situation Colin is now, Bradley will surely walk away, and Colin isn't sure he wants this because up until this point, he was rather enjoying this little coffee _thing_. Bradley seems to sense his unease because he looks away and watches other people for a while again. Colin lets him be and wills himself to calm down.

 

"So what happened?"

"He gave me a really stupid lecture, despite it not even being my fault. I locked it up, didn't I? And I left it on a parking lot. Hardly my fault somebody took a fancy to my mini. So he went on and on about responsibilities and me not understanding what's important and yada yada."

"Annoying but not unexpected, I'd say."

"Yeah. But now I need to take _public transport_ if I want to go somewhere."

 

Colin gaped.

"Public transport?"

"I know, right?"

 _What?_ "You're pissy because you had to take a _bus_ to get here?"

"Buses are horrible."

"How spoilt _are_ you?"

"Hey."

"No seriously, because you looked sad and I thought I'd buy you some coffee because no one should be alone and sad and now you're telling me you've been fuming on that bench in front of your fave posh store because you -"

"It's not _that_."

"Then what?"

 

Bradley pushed the now empty cup away, leaning back and closing his eyes. Colin felt once again over-whelmed with all his emotions, especially the ones that always told him to avoid a certain type of people, people for whose champion role Bradley would be perfect, and yet there was something about him, something that made Colin stay, for too many times now, and he didn't understand all this one bit. He didn't think he stayed just because he wanted company, to be so desperate that even bad company was better than none, and yet here he was again - Bradley didn't _feel_ like bad company. He was just - _different_.  And it intrigued him.

 

"It's the same thing over and over again, no matter what I do."

"What is?"

"How I'm just this huge, utter disappointment to him. How I fail at everything. How my father always points out all the bad stuff, and somehow manages to emphasize them in the process, and -"

"What, Bradley?"

"It just makes me feel like _crap_."

 

Colin sighed. This is what he was talking about, see? You let other people in, sort of, and they bring their problems with them, and then they make them huge and then you're the one buying coffee for everyone and trying to patch whatever is screwed up. And Colin already knows he's going to fuck it up royally because he really doesn't have any practice in this whatsoever.

 

He pats Bradley's shoulder.

 

Bradley doesn't respond.

 

He pats it again.

 

"What? Do I have a bug?"

 

 _Err_. "No I, uhm. I'm sorry?"

"What for? You didn't do anything."

"Well yeah but I can still wish you wouldn't be in this situation? As far as fucked up relationships with fathers go, I'm kind of an expert."

"Really?"

 

Shit.

"Uhm, no, nope, I was just saying this to make you feel better." Colin guzzled down the rest of his coffee, burning everything from his palate to his bowels, and hoping Bradley will let it go. God damn his big mouth and non-existent filter and the need to just blab his life away to Bradley. Didn't he decide earlier this was a bad idea?

 

"Colin."

"Mm?"

"Why are your eyes glazing over?"

"They're not."

"You look like you're about to cry."

"I'm not."

 

Colin's pretty sure he'd have this one in the bag but then a tiny traitorous tear rolled out of his eye and he coughs his throat raw.

 

"Coffee too hot?"

"You have no right to look so amused about something that's causing your friend pain."

 

Bradley lifted his eyebrows. "We're friends?"

 

 _Err: the sequel_. Okay, fine. Maybe he wanted to be friends. Sort of. Maybe meet up again and chat, where's the harm in that, right? Colin's around this place often enough to probably run into Bradley again, but Bradley doesn't know that so he might think he's being stalked by Colin. Or something as ridiculous as that. _Planning_ to meet, well, that's completely different. And so much better.

"Mate, we whine about our dads together. I bought you coffee. Last time we were here we looked for your car. I'd say we're a _little_ bit in friends."

 

Bradley smirked. "You're in friends with me?"

"Don't get over excited, it's not like I asked you to _marry_ me."

"You wish."

"No, I really don't. I like my men with wheels."

"Oh, ha bloody _ha_."

 

Colin was grinning openly now, his cheeks actually _hurting_ from it. "It's okay. You can buy coffee next time if it will make you feel better."

Bradley nodded to no one in particular. "Alright. What's your number?"

"Oh, uhm."

Crap. Bloody fuck and arse and shitballs _crap_.

 

"I don't have one."

"You don't have a _phone_?"

"No?"

"Why don't you have a phone? Oh don't tell me, you're one of those environmentalists, aren't you? Phones are bad for nature, yada yada, they cause ozone holes and kill your brain cells?"

"Oh, Bradley."

"What?"

"As always, you are so wrong it pains me to watch you struggle with it."

"Ass."

"You're a sore loser, aren't you?"

"Yes and I have many other fine qualities as well."

 

Bradley was chuckling again and stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

 

"Okay fine. So why don't you have a phone?"

"Too mainstream. Do you always do what everyone else does?"

"If it makes my life easier, yes? In what way is having a phone a bad idea?"

"Your father can reach you that way?"

Bradley's eyebrows just shot up, as if he never considered this aspect before. But Colin was in a good mood now and didn't want Bradley to return to his previous _my dad thinks nothing of me_ mind frame, so he took a step further.

"So, coffee, next week? And if you need someone to bitch about dads with we can always go and get high together."

" _Coffee_ would be fine, thank you."

"Alright."

 

Colin gets up then, feeling pleasantly warm all over. Must have been a good coffee.

"I'd say I'd walk you to your car, but, you know -"

Bradley barks out a laugh. "You're impossible."

"And you're meeting me next Sat at the swimming pool at noon."

"You're a swimmer?"

"Oh yeah. Gotta run home now though, tide's coming in."

"Oh you're going for a swim _now_? Isn't it a bit too cold for that?"

 

Colin smirks and winks. "It sure is."

 


	4. and all the shades around your shoulders

 

Colin would like to say he doesn't remember the day when his mother left.

 

That, sadly, would be a lie.

 

Of course you remember a day like that, even if it wasn't a particularly notable one in any other aspect. It wasn't uncommonly sunny or rainy, even if one expected the weather to share one's pain, or, in Colin's case, _confusion_ , and at least have the decency to pour it down in buckets.

He was just a kid, after all, an eleven year old kid with skinned knees and a mess of black hair and an imagination too big for his own head. A kid who didn't understand what happened. He knew he drove her up the wall occasionally, running through the tiny house with dirty shoes, bringing in stray dogs and cats or other kids, but apart from her threats with a wooden spoon, nothing more severe happened.

They had good times, her and him, playing the piano side by side, or baking cookies, and if Colin's behaviour was at its best, he could lick the remains of the chocolate batter from the bowl.

Colin was happy, then, content with weekly visits to the shabby playground that seemed like the best entertainment area in the world to him. He knows now that it was all because of his mother, who painted the world in rainbowy colours to him, making him see the best in broken swings and rusty monkey bars, and he knows out of everything she taught him, _this_ is her most important legacy.

 

He realizes it's a bit of an anti-climax, a loose end with little hope of getting tied, but the reason for her departure was never disclosed to him. One day, and this is the ordinary, mundane day we mentioned earlier, Colin came home from school to find the house empty. Later, when his father returned from work, he barked at Colin to go and make them some tea, and that was pretty much case closed.

Colin learned not to ask questions - insisting in his inquiries at first, only to find out they ended in tears every single time. Whether it was from the slap across the face because apparently Colin didn't know when to _stop_ asking, or from the ignorance or vagueness of half-assed answers, tears were always the last step, the final development in his fruitless cross-examination that every detective would be proud of.

In time, he stopped asking, and waiting, and then hoping, and when he was older, old memories came back. They came back when he least expected them, sometimes during mathematics class, sometimes during the night, but when Colin was smart enough to put the two and two together, he realized he missed one vital, crucial thing when he was a kid. He didn't really berate himself for it, wondering if kids were even built to perceive such things, but later on it felt like the most logical thing in the world.

 

His parents _hated_ each other.

 

Perhaps he was so concentrated on spending his time with his mum, his father a never-present figure, that he glossed over the times he hid in his room from the arguments and endless shouts, suppressing and smothering these particular memories deep down, only calling them back up to the surface when he was able to understand them better.

Not knowing what really happened made Colin come up with his own beliefs and conclusions. He believed, firmly, indisputably, that his mother loved him. And that she left by herself because she was too poor to take him with her. He also felt strongly that she wanted, and even planned, to come and get him and take him away too, but was for some unknown reason incapable of doing so.

Maybe she got ill. Maybe she found herself a new family. Maybe he was wrong and she believed he will be fine on his own with his father. And maybe, and this was the one option of how her fate went that Colin dreaded, _maybe_ she remained poor and unemployed and was out there, somewhere, homeless just like her son.

Colin didn't like to dwell on these things. He never even considered it an anomaly until he learned not all families are fucked up, and that not all mothers leave if their husbands turn out to be drunks who don't take no for an answer. Who don't take _anything_ for an answer, actually, apart from a new bottle of beer.

 

Colin slugged through his high school, not exactly feeling like he lacks any knowledge, but not seeing the point in anything - especially learning. His father made it clear at home that he was worthless, a waste of time and space, and air in particular, and Colin to this day doesn't know what made him pack up and leave.

He must have taken after his mother, he supposes. Because it's not like he wasn't used to the way his life went. It was a dull familiarity, the omnipresent stench of alcohol and cigarettes, and the bruises that got neighbours before their previous ones even faded. He hid in his room and watched endless _Dr Who_ re-runs, the only thing saving him from his meaningless existence the imagination his mother helped to develop, and encouraged him to use it, which Colin later honed out to perfection.

 

It was a day - much like the one when his mother left, actually - a regular, almost typical autumn day when Colin woke up, and stared up at his ceiling with disinterest so tangible his limbs hurt with disuse. Or maybe those were the newly acquired bruises, who could tell. All Colin actually remembers is sitting up, and getting his bag.

There wasn't much to pack - he's never had much, even with just two of them his father struggled, spending everything for his vices - an additional pair of jeans, a couple of shirts and hoodies, some toiletries and books, and Colin was set.

He left without a glance back, nothing in that house holding him back. He spent a month on the street before he found his trusting, wonderful, gleaming yellow companion, a parked car by day and an invincible Tardis by night.

 

Sometimes, Colin sits by his car and reminisces, and wonders if this is all his life has in store for him. _Homeless for life_ doesn't have that catchy ring to it, and it sounds like a really poor pension plan, but Colin would rather freeze to death in his car during one of the winter nights than go back to his old life.

 

He smiles to himself. He has _everything_ he needs, right?


	5. the words you said

_ 8/10/2011 _

__

Colin has a feeling this is going to be good. He can't quite explain it, and he swears he _tried_ ; he actually sat himself down on that fab little bench of his in front of the sea, which is the perfect spot for pondering, reminiscing, or pretending you're the Doctor and staring into some dangerous sea, full of venom-y crabs that want to drag you in and drown you, and then fry your ass for some crabby-holiday feast. It's good for, you know, _anything_ of the like. The bench is utterly awesome, and it holds some of his best memories.

 

Today, it failed him.

 

He felt restless, almost, and kind of fidgety, and he didn't even know he looked like a nervous idiot until his jerking scared his pigeons away. _Nothing_ scared his pigeons away. So he _thought_. At _length_ , because he considered himself an intellectual, and that is what intellectuals do.

Normal people would blame the food. It must have been something bad they ate: the ham was bad, or the fish, it's usually the fish, right, or maybe the mushrooms. Colin could wave this particular theory right off, because. _When_ was the last time he ate? Properly, at least? Sometime in the beginning of the week, he supposes, as he smoothes out another mini bag of crisps. Junk food is just so much easier to obtain, the vending machines dead-easy to manipulate to give you free stuff. He'd be a fat bastard, he laughs to himself, he would, but the grease doesn't have time to go to his hips with Colin's lifestyle, which consists of, you know. Walking around endlessly, and aimlessly. Swimming. Buying coffee for half-strangers half-friends. Saving the universe. So no, Colin is pretty certain it's not the food.

Next thing normal people would think of is probably the weather. They like to blame _that_ , oh yes. The pressure, the clouds, the _sun_. It's always something. Colin himself is quite fond of all those things, except maybe the snow, and only because he can't heat up the car to make the cold go away. Last winter, which was also his first winter on his own, was pretty bad and he developed a cough that didn't go away until mid-March. He's not fond of those memories, and he tries not to think about winter approaching again soon. So it's not the weather either, because Colin's become big friends with it during the almost-year of living practically out in the open. Low air pressure has got nothing on him any more.

Crossing out the food and weather, there's not much left, to be honest. Because when people rule those two out, they can only start blaming _other_ people and - _oh_.

 

_Well damn._

 

Should he? He didn't like to be an asshole, you see, and blaming someone for something that goes wrong on your end, without them being responsible - that's just dumb.

And Colin is an intellectual.

There might just be something on it, though, because what else could it be? He doesn't feel very nice for concluding it's Bradley's fault that he's kinda antsy, but there you have it. He already feels a tiny bit better just _considering_ it. Which brings new issues, though, because now that Colin is blessed with this new knowledge, he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He also wonders what in hell could Bradley actually do to make him nervous, because as far as Colin is concerned, Bradley doesn't hold any special powers over him. He's kinda nice, sometimes, either randomly or deliberately if maybe he wants something, but Colin doesn't perceive him as a manipulative bastard so he's pretty sure Bradley's acts of kindness are a natural progression that happens with or without Bradley's consent. He's also a good conversationalist, Colin will give him that. He's always praised other people if he thought they deserved it, maybe exaggerating a little just to see them happy, but there is genuinely something about Bradley that piques his interest. It's not unheard of that people found Colin's thought-train amusing, no, but it is rather unprecedented that someone jumped in on the bandwagon and then de-railed _with_ him.

 

In the end, Colin concludes it's the financial bit he's worried about. Last time, he bought Bradley coffee - which undoubtedly lead Bradley to believe Colin has money, right, and will expect this to happen repeatedly. Which - _no_. Colin has to draw the line somewhere, and this is why he's kinda worked-up. He's sure of it. Because if Bradley expects Colin to pay for their coffees or drinks or whatever, Colin will have to put his foot down, and there goes their friendship. It's what he's concerned about, you see. He's pretty sure he kinda likes Bradley up to a point where he wouldn't mind seeing him occasionally to talk or something, and would be sad to see him go.

He _is_ fun to talk to, Colin's sure he's mentioned this before.

 

*****

 

A couple of hours later Colin was walking down to the swimming pool centre, still trying to get rid of his deplorable jitters. He's decided to make peace with himself, to give the guy a chance - he clearly thought Colin can't be all that bad if he's agreed to go swimming with him (which could be a double-edged sword because a) maybe Bradley was one of those physical activity freaks, which would explain the usage of normal stairs instead of the electric ones, or b) he actually _was_ after Colin's money, which wouldn't explain _anything_ , really, but who knows these days) but if he pulls out _Hawaiian_ trunks, Colin's out. As simple as that. He _does_ have some dignity left.

Only that said dignity, however, along with all of his plans, jumped out of his head and skedaddled down the road as soon as Colin rounded the corner and saw Bradley sitting on a bus station bench in front of their building, and his mouth exploded into a wide grin.

 

"Oi, Little Santa helper!"

 

Bradley turned his head at him, looking a bit apprehensive, but it was, as always, underlined with a surprising dose of amusement. Colin found it hilarious, and also kinda satisfying, he has to admit, because he's met Bradley only three times so far and yet he already seemed to have a special look reserved for Colin - exasperation and buzz, mixed with just enough mirth that it made Colin want to upturn the tables and make the fondness a predominant feature in Bradley's look.

 

"Why do I have a feeling I should be worried?"

"Ready to have your ass kicked in the pool?"

 

And, _wow_. Colin had no idea where his competitive streak was coming from, or if he was even _strong_ enough to race Bradley, of all people, and yet here he was, pokerfacing and faking the zeal over such a contest. Bradley, naturally, was all game.

Half an hour later Colin saw just how _much_ game he was, and waved his flag, white like paleness of his face, or red like the blood he was about to piss from exertion, or _rainbowy_ from how much he tried _not_ to look at Bradley's chest, and surrendered. He collapsed on a towel at the edge of the pool and disregarded all the jokes Bradley aimed at him before he took off to cover a few more distances.

That energetic, muscular _asshole_. Nice chest, also. Not that Colin would know because he didn't look, he honestly didn't, at least not too much, because - see, Colin's made a deal with himself. While he was lonely, and painfully so, this really wasn't the time to pull anything stupid. He liked to hang out with Bradley, even if he did just get his ass whooped at racing, and Bradley seemed to be taking his winning a bit far with his cheering; but an acquaintance was really the most important thing he wanted in his life right now.

Cock-deprived, _yes_ , but friend-starved above everything else. Not to mention Bradley was kind of light years - that not even his little yellow Tardis could cover - out of his league. If Colin was, you know, interested. And he wasn't, not like that. Honestly.

Thinking about things like that made him kinda hot, though, and he blames all that swimming _regardless_ of what he usually thinks of blaming things that aren't actually to blame - so he literally rolled off the towel and back into the pool, rolling his eyes when he saw a few girls sigh in Bradley's general direction. Colin looked nonetheless, because he was of the curious sort, you know, no harm in looking, right, what Bradley was doing now that's so _ogling-worthy_ \- and then he wished he _hadn't_.

 

Bradley apparently had enough of the swimming variety that actually involved _swimming_ , and moved on to the massaging waterfalls. The spectacle was downright obscene, Bradley making pornstar faces while letting the water hit him from all sides, and Colin had half a mind to just leave him there, enjoying himself along with his audience, when the idiot spotted him and started waving enthusiastically.

"Colin, get your ass over here, this is _unreal_!"

Colin sighed, only half-berating his mind for taking him weird places - he supposed he shouldn't really feel guilty about something that was inevitable and unavoidable, and judging by all the spectators Bradley had, he wasn't alone in this either - because it's not as if he didn't know how to deal with this. It was all clear in his mind now, you see. He was just admiring, very briefly, the _Bradley-body_ , which had nothing to do with his fondness of the _Bradley-person_. So it's all good. He can differentiate between the two.

Still, he doubts he'll take Bradley swimming again any time soon.

 

When they move out of the massage area a little later and Colin thinks Bradley might have had enough, he's in for another surprise. Apparently, Bradley's mental age stopped at around 9, because the last thing he wants is to leave the pool and drags, _literally_ drags Colin back in. They lounge in the shallow bit, blissfully alone because Bradley's newly formed fan club disappeared a while ago - but not before giving _Colin_ some dirty (of the nasty variety, not of the sexy kind) looks and he's still wondering what in the _fuck's_ name was that all about - when Bradley nudges him.

"Do you usually come here alone?"

"Yeah."

"What do you do then?"

 

Oh. It was rather simple, or at least it was for Colin, and he only wondered for a moment whether to tell Bradley or not. But then he thought _fuck it_ , we're probably both on some weird-ass-sort of friendship-trial here, and shrugged.

"Meet people."

" _Oh_. Right. Erm, so do you know anyone here today?"

"Oh yeah."

"Which one?"

"See that old man there?"

"Yeah?"

"He's a carpenter."

"He is?"

"Oh yeah. Pretty fond of Jesus, and all that, so he decided to take his admiration to another level and join the same profession."

"Uhm."

"What?"

"Did he _tell_ you that?"

"Well. Not in so many _words_ -"

"Colin."

"What?"

"Did you just make that up?"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"You just -"

"Because take one good look at him and tell me he doesn't look like a carpenter to you. Or that he doesn't go to the church every Sunday."

"Uhm."

 

Colin wondered if he passed the test or not, and then admitted to himself he didn't really want to _know;_ god knows what kind of tests Bradley's mind came up with - and if they had anything to do with competitive swimming and beating him or being well-built like him (Colin still didn't forget Bradley's first words when he came out of the changing booth and took one look at Colin and asked _Do you ever eat?_ which, _no_ , not that often but _thanks_ for pointing it out) Colin was pretty sure the score board looked pretty pathetic thus far. Bradley was giving him his usual look, though, so he wasn't too worried. Yet.

"Do you always do this?"

"What?"

"When we first met you said you gave me nicknames in your head. And now I see you make up stuff about people you don't know."

"I uhm. I suppose?"

Colin expected a weirded out stare. Or some more inspection. What he got, though, was nothing like that and caught him a bit by surprise. Bradley snorted, in delight or bewilderment, Colin could not tell, and pointed at someone else in the distance.

"What about him, then?"

"Oh, he's a dead give-away, don't you think?"

"He is?"

"Oh yeah."

"Teach me your ways."

"Don't mock."

"I'm not."

"Alright. See his long hair?"

"Yes?"

"I think he likes the army."

"But."

"What?"

"Soldiers have to have short hair. Like, really short."

"Yes, exactly."

"Colin you're not making any sense."

"No, just think about it. I believe he's an ex army dog, and can't really get over it, too much emotional baggage. So he's growing his hair out, overdoing it, even, to make people think he's left his previous life style behind him -"

"When in reality he still works out at home, excessively so, and leads an astounding regime of stoic life?"

"Ahh."

"What?"

"You're learning fast, my young protégé."

"So why did he leave the army?"

"You tell me."

"He's had an accident. They hit a concealed bomb and - why are you shaking your head?"

"Too obvious."

"Right."

"What do you _really_ think happened?"

"Okay. Erm. Our army guy had a lover."

"Good."

"And this lover had a dog. And it was like a kid to them and -"

"What was her name?"

"How do you know it was a she?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"It was to me."

"There you go."

"She, uhm. She was called Gallifrey."

"Like the planet Dr Who was from?"

"Exactly."

"Bradley, oh my _god_."

"Colin? Your face, uhm, it's doing something _odd_ -"

"You should consider yourself lucky right now."

"Lucky?"

"Yeah lucky we're not in that stage of friendship yet where man-hugs are appropriate."

"I don't know whether to concentrate on your vocabulary that you called a hug between two blokes a man-hug or that you used the word _yet_."

"Does the time adverb bother you?"

"Nope."

"I do warn you, if you keep Dr Who references coming then the _yet_ might turn into _soon_."

"Right. Will keep it in mind."

"So what of Gallifrey?"

"She was ill, terminally so, and because she was like a daughter to him, he left the army to be there with both of his girls."

"And then he never went back?"

"Never went back."

" _Bradley_."

"Yes?"

"That was the saddest, most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"If you hug me I'm pushing you under water."

"Ah, no. I told you we're not there yet."

 

*****

 

Colin's observations of Bradley's mental age and the frivolous enthusiasm for everything new or at least newly-rediscovered were proving to be _right_ , and, unsurprisingly, contagious. Somehow it wasn't a shock that Bradley was suddenly so into the life stories of other people in the pool that they remained there most of the afternoon.

"Okay, what about _that_ one."

"Which one?"

"The middle-aged brunette."

"The one with bathing suit as if she just walked right out of the Flintstones?"

"Colin oh my _god_."

"What? Look at it, it's all brown, and -"

"Oh shit, the bra actually looks like _coconut_ cases."

"So are we gonna call her Wilma?"

"Yes, yes I think we legitimately can."

"Good."

"But I think Fred needs to buy her a new bikini."

"He offered, but she didn't want one."

"Why not?"

"Because she believes in recycling."

" _Recycling_?"

"Yeah, she keeps what she doesn't use at work."

"Was Wilma the very first environmentalist or something?"

"Oh yeah yeah."

"What does she do for a living? Grow palm trees?"

"Bradley."

"What."

"That is so ignorant of you."

"What did I say?"

"Not all palm trees have coconuts, you can't just _assume_ these things."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious."

"Colin."

"Yes, Bradley?"

"I'm gonna pretend, like I usually do, that I understand what's going on in your head."

"Okay."

"So if I take into consideration you're going to skin me if I don't apologize for the lack of my botanic knowledge and that this conversation will go nowhere if I don't -"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I was so insensitive towards palm trees."

"And coconuts."

" _And_ coconuts."

"Apology accepted."

"So can we go back to what Wilma does for a living?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, thought it was obvious."

"Not really, no."

"If I tell you about Wilma, will you do the next one?"

"Okay."

"So Wilma is really one with nature, has a green thumb, separates her garbage, all that, yeah? Nothing goes to waste, and thus the coconut bikini."

"Cokini."

"What?"

" _Cokini_ , a coconut bikini."

"Bradley?"

"Colin do try to keep up with the language trends."

"Ass."

"I'm still waiting on her job explanation."

"Right. Well it's cookies. _Obviously_."

"Cookies?"

"Mhm."

"Coconut cookies?"

"You're getting there."

"You're making me work hard here, Colin."

"The pool was a strategic move, so I don't have to watch you sweat because you're already wet."

"That's, uhm _._ Colin, how does that even- you are so _weird_."

"And you're so eloquent."

"Shut up."

"Whatever you say, Bradley."

"Stop grinning."

"Okay."

"And tell me more about that _cokini_."

"You're still doing the next one."

"I'm not _doing_ anyone, Colin- oh would you _stop_ laughing?"

"You're so easy to set off, Jesus, Bradley."

"And I was actually thinking of buying you coffee later."

"Mmmm coffee."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You don't deserve it."

" _Please_?"

"No you- oh stop _pouting_."

"It is my well-thought out plan to use my superior pouting skills on your poorly developed reserve, to convince you you have to buy me coffee afterwards."

"Good lord you're weirder than Wilma."

" _Oh_ , Wilma!"

"Fuck she's looking our way, could you keep it down?"

"She is?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god, _Bradley_."

"What?"

"What if her name is _really_ Wilma?"

" _No_ , she's looking in our direction because you're being a loud asshole. Pipe down."

"So we gonna get coffee later?"

"Do I know about Wilma's job yet?"

"No?"

"Then no."

"I can tell you now?"

"I'm waiting, Colin."

"Okay. But I have two theories and you gotta tell me which one sounds more plausible to you."

"Given it's what _you_ came up with?"

"Yeah?"

"Neither, I think."

"Funny, yeah. Very funny. I don't think I want that coffee now."

"My evil plan has worked."

"Your evil plan has got nothing on my pout."

"Do you know what else your pout doesn't have?"

"What?"

"Coffee."

" _Wow_."

"What?"

"Wow. You just _owned_ me."

"I own your ass."

"Then you don't have much."

"My _god_ you're right, you can have it back."

"For an exchange for coffee?"

"For Wilma's job."

"Job, then coffee?"

"No, after Wilma I'm doing one, remember?"

"You used that deliberately."

"Yes I did."

"I like you."

"I know. I'm irresistible like that. Now _tell_ me."

"I think Wilma is either a professional baker, making wonderful desserts and prehistoric pastries for a living -"

"Or?"

" _Or_ a serial coconut cookies dealer."

"And because she uses that much coconuts she recycles them as bikinis?"

"Yes! Pretty neat, don't you think?"

"It is rather quaint, yes."

"So?"

"So what?"

"First or second?"

"I think you should merge them. A serial professional baker who specializes in cookie dealership sounds so much like our Wilma."

" _Bradley_."

"Yes?"

" _You-_ "

"Stop gawping at me, Colin. You're freaking me out."

"Serial. Professional. Baker."

"Colin I'm serious."

"My pout and hug are threatening to get loose."

"Keep your parts away from - what did you call it earlier?"

"Your poorly developed self-restraint?"

"Yeah, that. Come on, let's go get that coffee."

"But you have that bloke to do now, you can take me for coffee-"

"Colin I'm doing you later, let's just go, I'm getting all wrinkly."

" _Bradley_."

"Colin? What's _wrong_ with your _face_?"

"You said you're doing _me_ later."

"I did not."

"Did too."

"Why would I- oh for the love of god stop laughing you're gonna _drown-_ "

"I _can't_ -"

"And I'm not resuscitating you."

"Oh _god_ -"

"You just gave up your rights for coffee _and_ more story-telling."

"Oh my god I can't _breathe_."

"Shut up, Colin."

"Oh god. Okay. Okay I'm gonna live."

"Pity."

"Can we get coffee next time, though?"

"Maybe."

"What's the deal-breaker?"

"If you don't get a phone."

"But I don't want one."

"Why not?"

"Because you'd keep texting me and calling me and then I'd go nuts and have to go back to the Stone Age with Wilma. And then Fred will get all jealous and won't believe me when I'll tell him she's safe with me because you promised me to do me later."

"Oh god. _Colin_ , just. Oh my god."

"Your words do not coincide with your stupid loud laughter."

"Shut up, my sides hurt."

"I'm still not getting a phone though."

"How am I supposed to reach you then?"

"Just tell me when and where to meet again."

"This doesn't feel like a very modern age, suddenly."

"You can ask Wilma to tutor you on everything ancient."

"After she's done teaching you how to bake cookies."

"Cookies we won't share with you."

"Colin."

"What?"

"What are you doing next weekend?"

"Nothing planned so far."

"Okay so I was thinking -"

"So very brave of you."

"- my dad won't get me a new car, but I have some money saved up, since my allowance through the years hasn't been all that _low_ , you know? And I was thinking I could look into second hand cars or something, get something cheaper and smaller, have a little test drive- "

"Which you _definitely_ need me for, good job. You'd _suck_ at picking something that's not ridiculously over-priced."

"Yes well, thank you Colin's _ego_ for putting it like _that_."

"Bradley."

"What?"

"I'd _love_ to."

"Oh. Good. _Right_."

"Where do you want me to come?"

"What?"

"Where are we meeting?"

"Oh uhm. The dealership closest to the shopping centre would be the best place to start at, I suppose. Meet me there Sat at 3?"

"Will do."

"Thanks."

"Oh and Bradley?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you drive better than you swim."

"Oh, _ha_. Remind me who _won_? And you're sporfling so hard you're gulping down water again, Colin."

"It's okay, people aren't allowed to pee in it."

"I just did."

"You didn't."

"Okay no I didn't."

" _Ass_."


	6. every dream you ever told

15/10/2011

If Colin was an odd mixture of excitement and nerves before him and Bradley spent the day at the swimming pool, he has now doubled on the tension front, and pretty much sky-rocketed on enthusiasm. _Double trouble, twice as much love_ , a commercial ad for a couple of kittens once said. Colin supposes this could be easily transferred to Bradley, and then stops himself with a snort. He's not sure what amuses him more, that he's comparing his newly-acquired friend to a baby cat, or that he's used this particular saying for him.

Because why not _To err is human, to purr is feline/Bradley_? Or _There's no snooze button on a cat/Bradley who wants breakfast_? But the thing is -

Okay here's the thing. Colin has a bit of an obsession to try and read people. Or maybe it isn't quite like that, maybe it's more the _getting to know other people_ thing that he has going on. But because someone of his status and, erm, _accommodation_ doesn't meet new people just like that, he's forced to make do with what he has. And what he has is his imagination, so he uses that to introduce all these people to himself. He does it all the time, he'll admit - sometimes he wonders how healthy it is, passing someone on the street and wondering if they're so angry because they stepped on a really sharp toy that their kid forgot to put away, or because they made a yummy meatloaf and their guest turned out to be a vegetarian - he doesn't feel so alone if it seems like he knows these people, even if his idea of what they're like is somewhat distorted.

Bradley, though, is different. God knows why, but for some reason Bradley wasn't driven away by Colin or his crazy ideas, Bradley was here and didn't have any objections on being his friend, so Colin stopped himself from creating Bradley's profile in his own mind. He will do it conventionally this time. He won't think up stories in his head or pretend that he knows why Bradley did or didn't do something. With him, Colin will take his time and get to know him the old-fashioned way.

The whole week passed by in this odd, buzzing anticipation, and Colin figured it's because this time, it was Bradley who asked him to hang out first, he wasn't just agreeing to Colin's proposition. If you've ever been in a similar situation you know there's a big difference on being invited or arranging a meeting _yourself_.

It's Colin who arrives first for a change, and it's him who is on the receiving end of a brilliant smile when Bradley gets there a few minutes later and spots him close to the entrance.

Bradley seems to be in good spirits as he rubs his hands and grins at Colin.

"Ready to get me a new car?"  
"Not yet."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'll be ready by the third one."

Bradley looks confused, but before he can ask more questions, Colin continues.

"It's always the third one, isn't it? First we'll drive one with poor brakes or an understeer so bad we'll crash it into a tree and then they'll chase us away from here, and then we'll try out the second one which will appear fine at first, a smooth ride and all that, but then you'll look at the fuel consumption and choke on whatever's in your mouth- "  
"Oh, I brought M&Ms, want one?"  
"Yes please."  
"Here."  
"Can I get a yellow one?"  
"Colin, it's M&Ms. They all taste the same."  
"No they don't."  
"Of course they do."  
"They really don't."  
"Okay _fine_. How do the yellow ones taste, then?"  
"The best?"  
"They taste the best."  
"Yes?"  
"Colin I can't decide whether it's daft or sweet that you have a favourite M &Ms colour."

Colin realizes they're both grinning at each other and wonders for a moment what's wrong with them - this is a serious conversation about legitimately important things, and if they can't do _this_ properly, how are they ever going to pick a right car?

"It's sweet, right? I'm totally sweet for doing this."  
"Nah, I was actually leaning towards daft, just didn't want to insult you in the first five minutes."  
"Never stopped you before."

Bradley throws his head back and laughs, and motions to Colin to keep walking.

"You were telling me why I'm going to buy the third car we try."  
"Third time's the charm, Bradley."  
"Is that _it_?"  
"What?"  
"You're telling me I'll get the third one because of a _superstition_?"  
"Just wait and see."  
"Okay what about this."  
"What?"  
"We go in and have a look at _all_ the cars first. And then we only take the one out for a test drive that we'd pick as the third option?"

Colin stops walking and frowns.  
"You can't do that to the other two cars."  
"Why not?"  
"You don't want to rob them of the experience."  
"What experience?"  
"Of us riding them."

Bradley starts choking violently on the candy he's just popped into his mouth. And, okay. Colin didn't actually mean it like that, but it came out awfully rude and this is just wonderful, Bradley's going to think Colin's the biggest pervert in existence - but then Colin takes one good look at Bradley, who's laughing and gasping for air at the same time and decides he doesn't really care. So he joins in.

"Colin, my _god_."  
"Breathe."  
"You really are something, you know that?"  
"Your faked exasperation won't work on me, Bradley."  
"It's not faked."  
"Oh it is. See I can't take you seriously if you're _laughing_ at the same time."

Bradley chuckles again and shoves the M&Ms bag in Colin's hands.  
"Here, eat some more. Should keep you quiet for a while."

 

*****

 

When they're there for a while and no car dealer has come close yet, Bradley starts to get fidgety.

"You'd think they'd want to sell a car or two, not ignore their customers."  
"Or maybe they just don't serve cavemen."

Bradley stops looking at one of the cars - Colin doesn't even bother checking what model it is because he already knows it's the _wrong_ one - and scowls at him.

"Colin, just. _What_?"  
"Oh, you know. That thing. On your face? That you forgot to shave off?"

Bradley narrows his eyes at him.

"Colin?"  
"Yes?"  
"Are we actually talking about my beard right now?"  
"Well it's not really an artistic miracle, is it?"

Okay so Colin might have just told a lie. A tiny one. Scruffy may not be the best look on Bradley, but it's not as bad as he's making it sound either. And he swears he's not doing it to be mean, honestly. It's just. It's a little difficult to explain, but Colin loves doing this, the winding Bradley up thing. Because Bradley takes everything so personally, and then he gets so affronted, blushing and puffing his cheeks out like he's some blow fish, and Colin just _loves_ it.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that because I fail to see why should it matter to you."  
"Oh it doesn't. But I'm capable of evaluating things objectively, you know, so -"

Ah, there it is. The corners of Bradley's mouth twitch, a tell-tale sign he's actually having fun. Colin thinks he loves this maybe even more than the well-natured, occassionaly one-sided mockery.

One of the employees finally spots them then, and the next hour goes by something like this:

1\. Bradley wants to try out an obnoxious, over-priced sports car.  
2\. The dealer gets excited.  
3\. Colin says absolutely _not_.  
4\. Bradley and the dealer have a mini contest in pouting at Colin.  
5\. Colin writes this down as a red card offense. And gives in.

The car does turn out to have a stupid understeer, but they manage not to crash it so Colin's prediction doesn't really come true. He still feels a little of that _told you so_ emotion of triumph that makes you walk around like the greatest smartass who's ever lived, though, when Bradley hands the keys back and shakes his head.

The trial for the second car goes down similarly, albeit with minor modifications:

1\. Bradley takes his fancy to a coupe convertible, but doesn't ask for keys straight away.  
2\. Instead, he looks at Colin inquisitively and waits.  
3\. Colin wants to repeat the absolutely not stance, he does, but can't find it in him to say no to Bradley. He figures it's the fact that Bradley is even _asking_ for his opinion, as if he forgot it won't be _their_ car, or something, and it makes Colin strangely complacent.  
4\. Colin gives in, _again_.  
5\. The dealer looks oddly impressed. (Impressed over _what_ , exactly, Colin cannot tell.)

This car, however, is slightly trickier to find faults in. There's nothing really wrong with it, even the fuel consumption isn't too bad, but Colin just isn't feeling it. And, he's not being an idiot, okay, he knows it's not going to be his car - when he says he's not feeling it, he means that he just doesn't see Bradley in this car, it's not _right_ for him. It lacks - _soul_.

Back at the dealer,

6\. Colin grasps at straws and points out that this car doesn't have enough room.  
7\. The dealer tries his _if looks could kill_ face.  
8\. It's not working.  
9\. Bradley stops inspecting the booth and asks Colin to elaborate.  
10\. Colin brings up the fact that it's a two people vehicle only, and when Bradley doesn't see a problem there, Colin argues that people usually put in the car more than just _themselves_. When Bradley asks _like what_ , Colin responds with _baby seat_.  
11\. The dealer gawks at them and excuses himself by saying he'll give them a minute.  
12\. Colin and Bradley claim they don't need a minute, but get it nonetheless.  
13\. Bradley wonders what Colin meant with baby seat.  
14\. Colin explains that baby equipment is some serious shit size-wise and that it's a great test to see if the car is spacious enough. If it can fit some of the baby stuff, then it's definitely good enough for anything else, like suitcases, or doing it in the back seat.  
15\. Bradley can't argue with that logic, so he nods his agreement.  
16\. The dealer comes back and tries his murderous look on Colin again.  
17\. It still doesn't work.

Colin is grinning now, and rubbing his hands. This is it. They're going to find Bradley's future car now, and they're going to take it out for a test drive and Bradley will see Colin was right. Still, after seeing Bradley was curiously looking around, his eyes resting on completely wrong models yet again, Colin starts feeling a bit anxious - and so he takes the matters into his own hands.

"Do you have, uhm."  
"Yes?"  
"Do you have anything that's not too big, and is, erm, bouncy but sturdy, fairly smooth to handle, but still, like, fun in the corners?"

Okay why is the dealer looking at him as if he's just grown another head?

"Would that be _all_?"  
"Oh, uhm. Do you have one that's all that and also _blue_?"

 

****

 

It's pretty clear to Colin, even if Bradley himself might still be in denial, that this is the right car indeed. And not just because the dealership actually had one exactly like Colin described it (blue _too_ ), no. It was evident to him almost straight away, because with first two, they didn't talk during the test rides at all. Bradley was silent, listening to the car and paying attention, vigilant for the car's responses to his handling. _This_ one, here, now, felt more like an extension of Bradley than a machine of its own. Bradley was still observant, but in an effortless way, and he was _chatty_.

"Colin."  
"Yes?"  
"How long do you think, before we have to bring it back?"  
"Before they close?"  
Bradley grins at him. "Let's go on a mini trip."

 

They share Bradley's iPod for only a couple of songs before Colin gets antsy. He can't actually explain why he feels a little bit restless, but he really wants to just _talk_ to Bradley. He takes his earphone out.

"Bradley."  
"Yes?"  
"Tell me about your father."

For a moment there Colin thinks they're going to crash for real this time because Bradley does a double take, but then he pulls himself together fast.

"My _father_? Why?"

Colin shrugs. "Well seeing that I let you drive me around and therefore trust you with my life, you could at least tell me a little about yourself and stuff, in case we do end up dead in an hour."  
"So little faith in my driving abilities?"  
"Oh your driving's just fine, but you never know, right?"  
Bradley nods at nobody in particular. "True."

Colin reaches over and pulls out Bradley's earphone too.  
"And I know all about his real job, remember, so you can skip the whole Santa thing."

Bradley grins, his eyes on the road.  
"Alright. My father is your typical miserable middle-aged bloke. Or, I don't know. I _think_ it's misery, not that I could be totally sure because it's not like he talks to me about that kind of stuff. He doesn't talk to me at _all_ , really."

Colin responds with a non-committal sound, not wanting to break Bradley's train of thought.

"He only talks to me when he asks about my achievements, stuff he knows I had to do and then, regardless of how well I did or didn't do, he makes the effort to tell me I could have done better."  
"He expects a lot from you."  
"He expects impossible."  
"Did you tell him that?"  
"I did."  
"And?"  
"He says it's a poor excuse for laziness. That I shouldn't rest on my laurels. But the thing is I don't _have_ any laurels because whatever I do is never good enough."

Okay, so the situation wasn't really the same as with Colin's father, he can see that now. Bradley's dad seemed to be the typical strict father, someone who is so hard on their kid and expects so much that they never actually live up to these expectations because they are set impossibly high in the first place.

"And your mum?"

Bradley's jaw sets in a pronounced line.

"My mother died in an accident."

Colin is almost too afraid to ask. "What happened?"

"She came to pick me up from school and on the ride back, someone crashed into us."  
" _Bradley_."

It seems like Colin's gentle, sad murmur of Bradley's name is enough, as he turns to him for a moment and nods. "It sucks something huge, yeah. I don't remember much, luckily I was still quite young, though people tell me my father was never quite the same afterwards.."  
"I can imagine, losing your life-partner so suddenly and so _tragically_."  
"I have a feeling my father blames _me_."  
"What? Why?"  
"I don't know, Colin. Maybe it's some odd survivor's guilt or something. I just always had this weird, inexplicable inkling that he's mad at me for losing her. He'd still have her if there was no me, you know? She'd be at home, safe and _alive_ if she didn't drive to come and get me. So in a way he's right."  
"Bradley you shouldn't think like that."  
"Like what?"  
"Putting yourself down. I don't know him, obviously, but it seems like your father is doing that enough for both of you."  
"Yeah well. Sometimes I think he's right. There's not much I've actually achieved yet, you know?"  
"Well you're doing uni, aren't you?"  
"Yeah."  
"So what will you do when you graduate?"  
"I don't know, really. My course pretty much puts me at any office for any kind of paperwork, which was my intention all along."

Colin's eyebrows go up at this new bit of information. _See_? This is why he's never dared to make up stuff about Bradley. He has a feeling he'd be wrong on so many occassions.  
" _Really_?"  
"Yes, why?"  
"And you'd actually _like_ doing that?"  
"Sure. I don't mind that it sounds, or even actually gets boring. I don't want to _live_ for my job, I just want a decent salary and then lock the work away until the next morning."  
"Wow."  
"You're completely different, aren't you?"  
"Mhm. I think I'd _actually_ die in an office. I want to do something that feels right, that makes me feel like I've done a good deed, something that brings certain benefits to others, I don't know. So that at the end of the day, and I mean the whole day, not just my working time, I can congratulate myself on a job well done."

Bradley nods again. "That is actually totally you, Colin."  
Colin beams at him.  
  
"It feels good knowing that someone who's going to park my car at a restaurant is so passionate about their job."  
"Bradley you _ass_."

Bradley's laugh is loud and infectious, so Colin just snorts and doesn't even try to pretend he was offended.

 

*****

 

"So what about your family then?"  
"Mm?"

Colin supposes he can only fake not hearing Bradley properly once.

"You mentioned your dad a couple of times in the past. What's your story with him? I got a sense you two don't really see eye to eye either."  
"Yeah. That's because we don't."  
"Colin."  
"Yes?"  
"Remember your little speech how we could die in an hour?"  
"Yes?"  
"So _talk_."

Colin doesn't really know where to start, so he opts for the safest alternative and sums it up without sugarcoating.  
"Alright fine. It's pretty fucked up, yeah? He was never really around when I was growing up, always away on his job, driving the truck, and when he was at home it was all just constant, endless arguing between him and mum and me thinking I never want to fucking marry if the marriage in real life turns out to be _that_."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It's okay, Bradley. Really. But my mum apparently had enough one day, because she left."  
"Your mother left your dad?"  
"And me."  
"You never heard from her _again_?"  
"Nope."  
"How old were you?"  
"Eleven."

Bradley stops the car in the middle of a deserted country road and sighs.  
"This is actually really fucked up."  
"I know."  
"Don't get this the wrong way, I wasn't dissing your life, it's just. We both grew up with an inadequate dad and now look at us."  
"Bradley I don't know about you, but I turned out pretty fabulous, don't you think?"

Bradley grins at him and apparently it's what he needed to hear, because he drives off again.

 

****

 

"Do you ever miss her?"  
"My mum?"  
"Yeah."  
"Of course I do. For the first few years I actually waited for her to come back and take me away. I even had a little bag with essentials ready, hidden under my bed."  
" _Colin_."  
"What?"

Bradley is solemn, biting his bottom lip. "That's actually _really_ sad. And I don't mean to pity you, honestly. It's just one of the saddest things I've ever heard."  
"Yeah well, it's the truth. And then one day I just figured she wasn't coming back for me."  
"Do you ever consider looking her up? Finding her?"  
"I wouldn't even know where to begin. It's not like I can afford a detective, or a research team or whatever you need to do something like that."  
"Not sure, but I can find out, though, if you'll ever decide to give it a go."

Colin can't even answer that as something squeezes at his throat.

They drive in silence after that, and just when Colin is about to ask if they're going back yet, or _what_ , Bradley turns to him tentatively.  
"Colin?"  
"Yes?"  
"Can I ask you something personal?"

Colin chuckles. "And what do you call everything we've just discussed?"

Bradley smiles and then steers off the road to a little hill overlooking the ocean. He kills the engine and turns in his seat, facing Colin completely.

"It's not something I can converse about while driving."  
"Okay?"  
"Please don't be mad. I hope I'm not breaching some sort of friendship code here."  
"You're making me nervous."  
"Just tell me to fuck off and mind my own business if it's too much, yeah?"  
"Oh I _promise_."

Bradley smiles, looking more confident.

"Okay. So do you think that all this crap that has happened to you has brought you to certain actions now?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Like, I remember you inviting me one time to get _high_ with you. And I don't condemn drugs, Colin, it's obviously each individual's choice, I'm just trying to understand. _Why_ do you take them? Because sometimes I get so frustrated I want to chew my own head off, and yet it never gets _so_ bad that I want to just - inhale or inject or whatever, and lose myself."

Colin purses his lips and nods. He should have known Bradley would remember his little slip from a few weeks ago.

"It's not really about that. Not with me, at least. Sometimes there's just so much _shit_ , you know? And not just shit that's thrown my way, but shit in general, and it gets hard to withstand it all. I don't take drugs to forget about all the horrible stuff I've seen or heard or experienced. I do it so I _understand_ things. So I know what's actually going on, and see it's maybe not all in vain and things can still be salvaged. Sometimes there's so much crap in this world you forget there's good also, you know?"

Bradley is leaning back in his seat, his attention full and undivided on Colin. He's actually considering what he's saying, and then pokes Colin in the shoulder.

"Have you ever thought of stopping, though?"  
"Oh I don't use regularly."  
"You don't?"  
"No, there's no need for that. I'm a pretty happy guy, considering everything."  
"Yeah, you actually are."

Bradley smiles absently at that, and Colin wonders if he's just remembering any of Colin's silly stories or ideas that he uttered in his company.

"I don't do it when I'm happy. And not always when I'm sad. Just whenever I think there's really no light anywhere and I need to be reminded that things aren't that bad."  
"I won't pretend I understand, but I'm still glad you told me this."

Colin nods and waits, not really sure what to do or say next. Bradley unbuckles, then.

"Come on, we need some fresh air."

They walk up to the front of the car and enjoy the view from there, both lost in their thoughts for several long minutes. Colin is shaken out of his mindless trance when Bradley says, quietly,

"Tell me a story, Colin."  
"What about?"  
"Anything."  
"Alright, but just so you know, you've asked for it."

Bradley grins, and Colin thinks he really shouldn't smile like he already loves it, because seriously, Colin didn't even _begin_ yet, so what's with the _face_? But Bradley is waiting, looking intrigued and cheerful despite their heavy conversation earlier that just about covered most of their unhappy memories, and really, who is Colin to deny him?

"See that lighthouse there?"  
"Yes."  
"It's not what you think it is."  
"Really."  
"Oh yes. And you should be proud that you can actually see it, because not many people can."  
"Oh so it's a _special_ lighthouse."  
"I'm going to tell you a secret now."  
"Okay."  
"You'll never guess who built it or why it's here."  
"So it's got nothing to do with sailors and bringing ships safely home in the fog?"  
"Only the purpose remains, somewhat. Because you see, the lighthouse is more like a pinpoint on a special map."  
"Special lighthouse for a special map."  
"You got it."  
"Makes sense."  
"It's a map of the fantasy world."  
"So who made it?"  
"The Care Bears."  
"The _Care_ Bears?"  
"They built it because they _care_."  
"Obviously."  
"Inhabitants, and residents, and even just visitors of the fantasy world need to navigate their way through as well, you know? And people, and animals, and _others_ got lost frequently, which was a shame, really, because you never know where are you going to end up if you get lost inside a place like that, so the Care Bears -"  
"Because they _care_."  
"-yes, built it to prevent this from happening."  
"So how come we can see it? We're not fantastical creatures."  
"Speak for yourself."

Bradley snorts and pokes Colin's shoulder again.

" _We_ can see it, Bradley, because we're special too."  
"Special lighthouse, special map, special us."  
"Anyone who is at least a little bit lost, in this world or theirs, can see it so they can get back on the right track."

It's the funny expression on Bradley's face, not really serious and not really amused, but something more like _wonder_ , that stops Colin from prattling on.  
"Colin, I thought I stopped here on this spot _coincidentally_."

Colin grins at him. "Oh no."

 

****

 

During their ride back they're experiencing a sugar rush from hell, in dire need of anything that will keep their blood flowing, and Colin thanks the heavens above for Bradley's bag of M&Ms he gets to hold while Bradley is driving. Every now and then, Bradley outstretches his hand palm up and waits, and Colin supplies a new candy. He doesn't want to eat one whenever _he_ pleases, though, because then he'd feel bad and guilty and wouldn't even be able to buy Bradley new ones and where would _that_ bring him, right, so Colin also only takes one for himself after he gives one to Bradley. He can be extremely just and impartial, see?

After he hands a blue one to Bradley, and wonders briefly how the car is actually the exact same blue as the candy, Colin fishes around the bag and pops one in his mouth too. He's not even finished eating it, when he notices from the corner of his eye that Bradley is smirking at him.

"What?"  
"You took a yellow one, didn't you?"  
"Uh, yes?"  
"And the one before."  
"Maybe."  
"And the one before."  
"Bradley- "  
"I take it back."  
"What?"  
"It's _not_ daft."  
"No?"  
"Nope. It's quite sweet, really."

Colin opens the bag and shakes several candies out, and then promptly shoves them in Bradley's mouth. What? It's really the only logical, possible response one could have to Bradley saying something ludicrous like _that_.

Before they get out of the car, Bradley informs him that he's too busy to meet the next weekend so they make plans for the Saturday next. Colin, however, doesn't have time to wonder what he's going to do for the next fortnight on his own, though, because their favourite dealer walks their way, tapping his wrist watch.  
Bradley, apparently not in the mood to bicker with the guy, just waves at him.

"I'll take it, alright?"

The dealer, trying for sarcasm but failing to make it work the same way he couldn't do a livid face, turns to Colin and snorts.

"So this one has enough space, then?"

Colin doesn't even have time to respond as Bradley beats him to it.

"We could definitely fit a baby seat in there, yeah."

It's a line that creates a memory so hilarious and dear to Colin that it makes him snort for long years to come. That, and the dealer's face when Bradley says it.


	7. the finest things are always fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! important :D
> 
> this chapters contains a song.  
> when you get to that part, PLEASE go and listen to it - to _all_ of it (the ending is important and so climactic and emotional it made both me and my beta cry like _idiots_. most of the lyrics are in the story.)  
>  you will not regret it.  
> (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FWLP4BCLa8 -- david ford, song for the road)

  
 

 

_ 29/10/2011 _

__

Colin is nervous. _Again_. And he thinks this is rather daft for a number of reasons, because a) he doesn't actually have anything to be nervous for, he doesn't, because this isn't some test - at least not _anymore_ , b) it's not like he's heading into the unknown, right, he's had plenty of coffees before, and c) it's just _Bradley_.

 

So he really needs to stop with these weird-ass pre-wedding jitters and get his shit together because it's only another coffee date, and- ah. _See_? It's not even a date, and he knows it, and yet his stupid brain dubs it as such every single time.

Alright, so he's maybe missed the guy, he'll admit that. It's been two weeks and Colin doesn't really have personal animators and day-planners waiting around every corner to make his days shorter and more fun. And the problem is that this didn't _use_ to be a problem. Colin is a self-sufficient guy and making his own entertainment shouldn't prove to be difficult. But no, lately it _is_ difficult because every sodding idea he has, he wants to share, and he wants to share it with Bradley. Bradley laughs and listens and shares his own shit, or even if he doesn't that's fine _too_ because when it comes to the silence part, they're really a walking-talking cliché. They could shoot commercials, for fuck's sake.

_Is your life meaningless?_

_Is your job stressful?_

_Do your kids not listen to you?_

_Is that stain impossible to get out?_

_Now, you can wave your troubles goodbye because here are Colin and Bradley, the two blokes between whom the silence is actually comfortable._

 

Colin doesn't really know how they could help housewives getting rid of irksome stains, but there you go, he's actually pretty sure they would come up with something if given the chance. In the end it may not help with household chores, but they might invent a new fossil-fuel or decipher the Mayan calendar. Which was already done, true, but they'd do it _properly_.

So, yeah. He's looking forward to seeing Bradley again. He ignores the part of his brain that adds that it hopes the coffee lasts as long as possible, and that maybe he should order a _grande_. Just in case. No wonder he's nervous, jeez.

When Colin arrives to the entrance of the pub, Bradley is already there. Coffee included. He's not really holding a _grande_ , so there goes Colin's plan of prolonging this d- _meeting_ , but he's bought it for both of them, which means Colin can probably get something warm to eat tomorrow. And that's worth several large cups of coffee - maybe not to his heart, but to his stomach most definitely.

 

"Hey, you shaved that thing off your face!"

"Hello, Colin."

"Hi."

"And I had to."

"Why?"

" _Someone_ made a fuss over it."

"Aww, Bradley. I didn't know you even listened to me."

"I was talking about my dad."

 

Colin snorts and grabs the coffee Bradley offers. "Ass. Thanks for this, though."

"Yeah, about the coffee -"

"Mmm?"

"Colin don't slurp, you'll burn your tongue."

"Yes, your highness."

Bradley laughs and bumps his shoulder into Colin's.

"It's a nice day so we could walk around a bit, if you're up for it."

Colin stops on the spot.

" _Bradley_."

"What?"

"Are you well?"

"Uhm, _yes_?"

"Are you sure?"

"Colin what the f-"

"You actually want to _walk_?"

 

Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes at him. Colin is grinning so hard he can hardly see, but he can't really stop himself. Mocking Bradley is almost as fun as mocking someone _with_ Bradley, and Colin was denied this particular kind of fun for two whole weeks.

"Colin."

"Yes, Bradley?"

"Don't hurt your cheek muscles, okay?"

"Right. Sorry."

Bradley sighs. "And to think I actually made you something."

Colin perks up. "What, like a present? Can I see it?"

" _Mmm_ I don't know."

"Please?"

"You _do_ know I don't actually hate walking, right?"

"Yeah yeah, just public transport, you snob."

"You'll never get your present this way, Colin."

"Bradley."

"What?"

"I'm just teasing you. You're _terribly_ easy to set off."

"Alright."

 

Bradley stops mid-walk and reaches inside his jacket pocket. Colin, feeling really giddy for some inexplicable reason, blurts out in mock-seriousness.

"Oh, so it's a small thing?"

Bradley stills, shocked. "What did you expect, a fountain for your garden?"

Oh, _lord_. Colin could easily have a field day, he could, but at the same time he's just really really curious. What could _possibly_ make Bradley think of him to such extent he went and got the thing for him?

"Bradley."

"What?"

" _Teasing_ , remember."

" _Oh_. Colin you're a pillock sometimes."

"I know."

"You want your thing or not?"

"Yes please."

 

Bradley hands over a small brown paper bag and for one wild moment Colin thinks he got him booze, but then he hears its contents rolling around, almost making a jingling sound. _Not_ a bottle, then. He peers inside, and -

Huh.

That's. Right, yes. He'll just, uhm.

 

He looks up, wondering if his face is as dumb as he feels right now when he sees Bradley isn't doing that much better. He's swaying on the spot on the balls of his feet, his hands almost stubbornly stuck in his pockets. There's a faint redness on his cheeks, but this could be from a number of things - the coffee, the slight wind, the walking. Colin harbours no pretentious hope Bradley is blushing because of _this_.

"Bradley."

"Right, err. Is it okay?"

"Did you- you handpicked _all_ of these, _didn't_ you?"

"I, uh. Yes?"

" _Bradley_."

"Okay, right, _crap_ it must have so many germs all over it, so stupid of me for not considering it sooner -"

 

Colin stuffs the bag, which is full of yellow M&Ms - _only_ yellow M &Ms - into his pocket and thinks only for a second of what he's said to Bradley last month in the pool. He disregards the awkward social rules and just throws himself at Bradley, who thankfully pulls his hands out of his pockets in the last possible moment and catches him.

Colin hugs him close, and shit this feels _awesome_ , he can't really remember when was the last time he hugged someone, and laughs. Bradley is stiff, and unmoving, but when Colin starts laughing he seems to unfreeze and squeezes him back. Colin has to bite his lip - this is quite possibly the greatest thing anyone has ever done for him, such a simple and yet thoughtful gesture, but he can't tell Bradley that, he can't, because Colin doesn't want to spook the guy with his emotional outbursts.

So he lets him go and grins widely.

 

"I _love_ it. Thank you."

 

The proud grin Bradley is sporting when they head off again is more than big enough of a _you're welcome_ for Colin.

 

*****

 

"So what were you up to for the past couple of weeks?"

"Just uni stuff, but sadly a fuckton of it."

" _Uni_ stuff? You blew me off for _studying_?"

"Is my education not important to you, Colin?"

"Well yeah, but I at least expected you'd be doing something paramount -"

" _Paramount_?"

"Yep. You do know what it means, yes?"

"Of course I know what it _means_. Just- pray, tell, Colin, what's paramount enough for you?"

"I don't _know_ , I thought you maybe went on some expedition to save the polar bears from extinction, that sounds like a big enough thing to cancel your weekend plans."

Bradley beams at him. "Expedition to save the polar bears? And I'd be doing what, there? Punching holes through bear condoms?"

 

Colin starts laughing and sets off Bradley, who, in his defence, tried pretty valiantly to not laugh at his own joke, and was doing quite well until now. He looks over at Colin and snorts, and _christ_ , Colin thinks, I've _really_ missed him, and -

Bloody _ow_.

Colin feels a jab in his left side and grabs himself there, thinking it was Bradley who poked him between the ribs - but no, Bradley still has his hands in his jacket pockets and is now several feet ahead already. Colin feels a slight jolt again, but it's not in his sides, not really, it's actually much closer to his _heart_ and shit, this better not be some stupid heart condition, he's young, right, and okay he's a skinny fuck, but he's fairly healthy and he can't afford a heart transplant or chemotherapy, or -

"Colin?"

"Uh?"

"Colin, are you okay?"

 

And, great. Now Bradley looks worried.

 

"No, no, I'm okay -"

"Do you need to sit down?"

"I'm not _ninety_ , Bradley, I just felt a jab _here_ -"

"Maybe you ate something bad? What did you have for lunch? It can happen, these things, if you eat something's that's off, like ham, or mushrooms, or- "

" _Yeah_   it must have been something like that."

"Are you okay, though?"

"Yes, _mother_."

"Hey, I'm just checking."

"I'm _fine_."

"Be nice or I'm taking your coffee back."

"What, wanna trade my germs for your germs now?"

Bradley laughs and just shakes his head.

 

"Good. Now stop fretting and tell me more about bears and safe sex."

 

In the next half an hour, however, Colin is pretty certain he can rule out any food he did or did not eat, though this doesn't put his mind at ease at all. You'd expect people to be relieved to know they haven't been food-poisoned, but you also have to take into consideration the _alternative_.

And what worries _Colin_ is that the after-shocks of his stinging return every single time Bradley turns and smiles at him.

 

*****

 

An hour later, when the empty coffee cups have long been discarded, and bear mating rituals discussed into such detail they're pretty sure they'll be offered a commentary post for the next National Geographic great documentary series, Colin realizes they're nearing the one place he hasn't visited in several months despite his 24/7 errand-free schedule.

 

"Come on, let's go in here."

"What? Why? Colin what's in- "

"It's fine, I promise, it's a church thingy but always open and always empty."

 

Colin wasn't quite sure why he brought Bradley in here, of all places. He didn't plan on it and now that he came to think of it, he knew why he didn't - what is he going to _do_ in here, point at some chairs and benches and _introduce_ them to Bradley? Bradley, bless him, probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash at that, by now so attuned to Colin's antics, but Colin didn't want to push his luck. And he sure as hell didn't bring him here to pray, or, god forbid, show him the altar up in the front, because that would be just. No. Seriously, even Colin wouldn't come up with something that dumb. So the only other thing left there was -  _oh_.

The _piano_.

They were already stumbling inside, and Colin would like to lie that they didn't giggle like a couple of schoolboys, but that was exactly what they were doing. As if they actually broke in, which, Colin promises they _didn't_ , and shouldn't even be here, and now Bradley was sitting down against the wall next to the piano, looking at Colin curiously.

 

"So why are we here?"

 

Right. _Why_ , indeed?

 

"Do you like David Ford?"

 _What_?

"Who?"

"I'm guessing that's a no."

Bradley shrugged. "Probably not, I don't know."

"Here, I'll play you something of his."

_Wait what?_

And, crap. Colin panicked. Like - actually, completely, utterly, overwhelmingly panicked to the tips of his ears and to the nails of his toes and this was going just splendidly, he was going to play a song for Bradley and what kind of a church even was this, open for the public day in and day out without any supervision? Didn't God, or _someone_ , know that idiots like Colin needed a bit of restraints put on them _and_ their enthusiastic ideas which only proved to be one thing in the end? (Yes, _disastrous_ is the word you're looking for here.) He avoided Bradley's intrigued, lit-up face, and sat down behind the piano.

 

"You can play?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Where did you learn?"

"My mum taught me when I was a kid."

Bradley nodded and rubbed his hands. "Go on then, sing to me like David Frost would."

" _Ford_."

"Right, Ford."

"You're hopeless."

"What's it called, anyway?"

"Song for the road."

" _Road_? Is this going to be another one of your jokes where you mock my non-existent car?"

 

You _wish_. Colin couldn't for the life of him say why he chose that song, because it was kind of melancholy and slow, nothing like the silly, funny stuff he knew how to play and played them well. This one felt private, he's only played it to himself before, always wondering if he'll have someone to play it to one day. It was strangely hopeful, and positive despite its unsteady rhythm and big lyrics, and in the end it was also a _love_ song. But it was one of his favourites, so Bradley will just have to _deal_. Maybe it was because it felt like such a crucial, prodigious moment to Colin, that he whispered to Bradley before he started playing.

 

"This isn't a joke."

[the song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FWLP4BCLa8)

****

  
_**Well the day cast down** _  
_**lengthy shadows on unfamiliar towns**_  
 _**and i drove 300 miles from the place i call home**_

****

****

Out of the corner of his eye, Colin noticed Bradley's jaw drop a little. _Good_. He guesses it probably came as a shocker and that Bradley didn't expect him to know how to sing, but Colin never did things by half and Bradley should know that by now. He probably _did_ , Colin thought, but Bradley's enthusiasm for things usually came across as a little _intense_ , as much as it was hearty and healthy and made Colin feel something _absurd_ , so Bradley's obvious mirth at his singing made him do it just that little bit louder.

 

**_we are nowhere but man, we're alright_ **

**_so you can keep your belief in whatever_ **

**_and i'll wear my cynicism like a tattoo_ **

 

 

His fingers felt light, lighter than he'd expected them to be, and the piano keys so familiar and _known_ to touch. He hasn't played in a while, not really finding the motivation or simple want or urge to do so, only humming his favourite songs to himself at night in his car - but here, today, on this bench with Bradley sitting two feet away, Colin felt better than he had in years. If he didn't have the lyrics to sing, he'd probably throw his head back and laugh with glee.

 

 

**_and while poets try to engineer definitions of love  
oh you know that all i can think of is you_ **

**_and i just can't wait to see you on sunday  
far from the traffic and the smoke and the noise_ **

****

****

The song was nearing Colin's favourite part, the part that held the loveliest, least pathetic description of love he's ever heard, and he liked to hum those words to himself even when he wasn't in lo- _right_. Interesting train of thought there, yeah.

Let him rephrase that. What he _meant_ to say was, that the next few lines remained his favourite even when he didn't know if he'll ever feel like that. To have someone to hold and love, to find them more riveting and captivating with each day, and to never want to get enough of them. The future was terribly unpredictable, _especially_ for people like him, for, in want of a better word,  the dogs on the street, where loneliness and cold and hunger walked hand in hand without any agreeable prospects for the future. He dared not think about it, or wish, even, that the words could be true for him one day and not just a manufactured fake love declaration. He sincerely hoped, however, that maybe right now, somewhere, someone was singing these words to their very own special person.

 

 

**_now i don't lightly use words like forever_ **  
_**but i will love you till the end of today** _  
_**and in the morning when i remember everything that you are**_  
 _**well i know i'll fall for you over again**_

****

****

Colin literally felt the exhilaration of someone playing in the concert hall for an audience of thousands; he forgot about himself, his body and all the clumsy, gangly limbs, and only felt the exquisite vibration of the keys under his fingertips that travelled up his arms straight _into_ him. He needed to close his eyes to just keep on going. He could see Bradley _looking_ \- his sole spectator of countless shapes and faces and yet the one and _only_ \- and Colin felt the burn of his stare, he felt exposed and vulnerable and he was getting addicted _fast_. He willed himself to just ignore it, like any proper pianist would, right, they'd disregard any and all disturbances and diversions, and deliver their music unspoilt and unimpaired.

 

And yet he was sad that the song was coming to an end.

 

 

**_just give me one way to spend my last moments alive_ **

Colin looked up, at Bradley, before he sang the last words,

****

  
_**and i choose this, i choose this, i choose this**_  
 _**i choose this, i choose this, i choose this**_

****

****

and the dazzling smile he got in return was _easily_ one of the top five moments in his entire life.

 

When the last notes rang out, long after his voice did because that's how the song went, after all, Colin pouted in a shy smile. Bradley stopped grinning, though, something pensive and solemn and yet utterly breathtaking forming on his face. He stood up, abruptly, and pulled Colin up to his feet.

"What-"

"Let's get out of here."

" _O_ kay?"

 

*****

 

Colin thinks he's going to vomit.

Or something as equally revolting and unappetizing and bad for his health, but he can't really help himself. He's been all sorts of nervous today, and confused, and then nearly sick, and the bizarre thing about it is he's been _enjoying_ himself at the same time. Colin's pretty sure he doesn't have some weird fetish on feeling un-well and getting off on it, but there you go, it _does_ pretty much sum up his day.

 

And it's not getting any better.

 

Before, he knew it was him, it was _all_ him, the whole ants-in-my-pants thing, the I'm feeling so happy I could gag a little, the why the fuck did I just sing to Bradley because I sure as _hell_ didn't do it for him smiling at me like he did, but now - _now_ it wasn't just him, because Bradley seemed off, somehow, deep in his thoughts, slightly off-kilter with that weird expression as if he just ate a really sour cucumber but decided to plant a whole garden of them nonetheless, and had a curious purpose in his brisk walk.

All Colin could do was tag along, a footstep or two behind him, almost chasing him and hoping Bradley actually meant for him to follow because if he didn't - _boy_ did Colin look like a dumbass now if he wasn't meant to go after him.

Bradley stops, suddenly, and because Colin doesn't expect it, he walks straight into him.

Bradley turns around, looking befuddled, like he's calculating how much fertilizer he needs for the cucumbers to grow, and he seems so unguarded and open that Colin blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

 

"Want to come over to my place?"

 

And.

 _Jesus_ _shit_ , how is _that_ the first thing that he thought of? In what universe could he bloody invite Bradley over? Did he _actually_ say that? Colin knows his eyes are barely still in their sockets and his heart's doing something ridiculous against his ribcage, but fuck, he panicked, he outright panicked again and is this an assigned topic for the day or something? That he doesn't bloody know what to do or say and just opts for the most absurd, foolish offer he can come up with?

Of course Bradley will say no. Of _course_ he will, and thank _fuck_ for that because it solves everything - Colin's excuse that he didn't mean it, and his excuses about the place in question actually being a _vehicle_ , and the excuses of why he even proposed it in the first place, and he sighs in relief and sags when Bradley just stares. Like the lights are on but there's really nobody at home.

Maybe he didn't even hear him in his weird catatonic state.

 

And then Bradley smiles.

"Yeah okay."

 

No. No no _no_ , Bradley doesn't know what he's saying, maybe he thought Colin's said something else, right, it could happen - maybe Colin did actually say something else and the whole invitation fiasco happened just in his head, his brain playing out some sick fantasy of bringing Bradley home, and -

"Which way is it?"

 _Crap_. Colin gulps, and waits for his wonderful imagination to get him out of this like it always has, but _no_ , the imagination he can count on on pretty  much any occasion, has seemingly teamed up with his brain because all of a sudden, they're both dead quiet and Colin's on his own. _Bastards_.

He checks where they actually are, because when Bradley dragged him out of the church Colin just followed, or _tried_ to, and kept no tabs on the surroundings.

He does now.

 

And - _double_ crap. He's going to have a word with fate later, and tell it off or just ask it what the hell was it _thinking_ , but right now he feels completely helpless and can just point, weakly, in the direction where they're already going.

"This way."

They're not far away, actually, because Bradley headed for the coast and then just went on, and this _on_ was straight to the secluded stretch where Colin resides. Maybe this was meant to happen, who knows. Because Colin doesn't have enough drama going on in his life or something.

"You home alone?"

 

 _Err_. He's sinking, isn't he? And it's more tragic than with Titanic, because his own personal iceberg is dragging him under the surface with a sense of triumph so palpable he's just giving in, forgetting how to swim or breathe and of _course_ there are no life boats or floating doors, no.

There's just Bradley and his glittering eyes, so Colin stops sending SOS signals on the radio and takes a deep breath before the dive.

"I'm _pretty_ sure there's no one there, yes."

 

*****

 

"Bradley."

"Yeah?"

"Let's just, uhm, sit down on this bench for a moment."

"Oh. Okay?"

 

Colin's panicking again but at least he hasn't said anything _fatally_ stupid again, right? Or - he hasn't said anything fatally stupid again _yet_. It's only a matter of time, really, because he knows he undoubtedly will. But for _now_ , he feels like he's doing pretty well, considering the circumstances.

That is, if you overlook the odd squeaky sound in his chest. And inside his head. He might be doing it with his mouth too, he couldn't really tell. It felt like he has no control over his body functions anymore. There's also this slight _earthquake_ he's causing with his shaking from head to toe, and he wonders when Bradley is going to notice.

 

And oh god, _Bradley_.  It must be the setting sun that's causing it, because Bradley's surrounded by this gleaming _aura_ , like someone who's used too much luminous moisturizer, or like some _deity_ that came to earth to fucking blind him, and thus adding _another_ problem to his ever-growing list, because as if Colin has money for _glasses_ on top of everything -

Bradley, with his hands in his pockets, and sitting down looking curious, with that weird anticipation on his features like he's actually looking forward to going _home_ with Colin and oh _god_ , Colin just isn't ready yet, he's not ready to tell him the truth about everything, so he panics and sits Bradley down on his favourite bench, the one overlooking the sea.

He can't even look at his car mere fifty feet away without feeling like vomiting again.

 

He flops down next to Bradley.

 

He's just going to have to tell him. There's nothing for it, and he knows it, and he briefly wonders if he's waited too long. But when _would_ he drop the bomb, really? It's not as if the topic ever came up, or at least the fitting kind of introduction into it for Colin to go _hey Bradley, I'm actually homeless and I live in my car, and I've been lying to you for almost two months now, but please don't be mad at me because something odd happens to me whenever you smile like a goof so I need you to just keep on doing that, yes?_ and Colin just doesn't know. He doesn't know.

Bradley, however, as much as he looks out of sorts, seems to feel completely at home in it. There's a different kind of air around him now, not like the urgent, fleeting jog he had when they left the church, but something peaceful settling around his features, as if he knows now what bothered him and made him run. And that he's okay with it.

"Colin?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you okay? Is it your stomach again?"

 

 _Well_. Yes and no?

 

Bradley is concerned, that much is clear to Colin, and maybe there are _other_ things present beside the evident concern, but Colin couldn't actually tell - he's not looking at _all_ of Bradley anymore. Bradley has many fine features to rest one's eyes on, true, but Colin doesn't have time for them right now, as he stares at his lips - and all of a sudden, the queasy feeling inside him fades and Colin feels _hungry_.

Bradley falls silent, and he must notice where Colin is looking at, he must, because his mouth parts and _fuck_ would Colin kill for this to be an invitation, and then Bradley's gaze drops as well and oh _lord_ , it drops to _Colin's_ lips, and Colin feels all air leaving his lungs.

He feels suspended between the stillness of the moment that is _now_ , and something big that is about to come, and it's fucking hard to concentrate on what that just _might_ be, okay, if Bradley is looking at you like he's finally started growing his little patch of cucumbers, and has decided you're the most beautiful one of them all.

 

Bradley smiles with some sort of knowing, satisfied smirk, and yet he looks _shy_ at the same time and Colin thinks he should just stop dissecting this fucking myriad of emotions that Bradley is projecting at him, because he's going to crack and go out with a bang of pink, very gay glitter and then _who's_ going to kiss Bradley?

Because there _will_ be kissing, oh yes, otherwise Colin will actually keel over and die and stop breathing if Bradley pulls back now, and - uh, when did they get so close?

 

Bradley is still, but not frozen from shock or surprise like earlier when Colin hugged him, no - he's mellow, and compliant, and the smile he gives Colin is downright dopey and pretty much the last thing Colin sees before everything blurs up from such close vicinity. He closes his eyes and lets his sense of feel take over, the tingle of Bradley's breath warm on his face and his lips surprisingly soft under Colin's. Bradley was kissing back and Colin's actually unable to hold in a gasp when he realizes Bradley's taken charge, licking at Colin's lips and pushing his hands into his hair. For a second, Colin feels like he's going to launch up into space like some out of control rocket from _everything_ he's feeling right now, and _all_ of it something so intense he can't even acknowledge it yet, but then he slumps into Bradley's arms because honestly, where's the fucking _rush_?

So he takes his time and curves his long fingers around Bradley's face and holds him in place just in case - though he really needn't as Bradley slips an arm around him and brings him closer, the slide of his tongue against Colin's the most delicious treat Colin's had in a long time. He nibbles on Bradley's bottom lip and hums happily because Bradley tastes sweet and exciting, he tastes _perfect_ , really, and Colin savours the shudder he coaxes out of Bradley, along with the muffled sounds he gasps against Colin's mouth quietly.

Colin moves away for less than an inch, and grins, because how could he not, _wow_ , and chuckles breathlessly when he notices Bradley is grinning right back. Colin wants _more_ , obviously, and cranes his neck to reach, as Bradley kisses him fast and then murmurs, looking down at his hands with a faint blush on his cheeks,

 

"I don't want to sound _conceited_ , but, uhm. Can we go to your place now?"

 

And. Oh god. This is _it_. Colin stands up, slowly, and congratulates himself for not trembling all that much. An odd feeling of hope is settling inside him; maybe he's high from the kiss or maybe he's just allowed himself to think that Bradley might not flip out because of what's just happened, but there it is, Colin knows this will either go down well, or in flames.

He waves his arms around.

"Erm. This is my place."

Bradley looks around, but it's still just open curiosity that Colin sees on his face.

"Really? You live on the coast?"

 

You _could_ say that, yes. The accommodation isn't much, but the _view_ is fantastic.

 

Colin points at his car.

"There."

"Oh, you brought your car? You can give me a lift home later - "

Bradley's smile slowly fades, and Colin watches confusion give way to clarity. He sees how Bradley first gets that Colin couldn't possibly live here, because this part of the coast is pretty much secluded with no houses or blocks of flats anywhere in sight, and then his focus latches on to Colin's car and Bradley gets up too, probably thinking they'll walk to it to drive off.

As he makes a few steps, he stops dead in his tracks and the voice in his throat follows suit, because it's pretty much clear this car isn't going _anywhere_.

The blankets and some clothes are thrown over the seats, and there's an empty paper bag there, greasy in spots from the fish and chips Colin's indulged in a couple of days before. There are some stones on the panel above the steering wheel, pretty ones or those of interesting shapes that Colin found on the beach and liked so much he had to bring them back with him. All in all not a particularly impressive sight.

 

"Colin?"

 

Bradley's voice is small, and there's a tangible plea there, almost as if Bradley is _begging_ Colin to give him a plausible explanation, something that would clear up this confusion.

But there's nothing, there's actually _nothing_ to soften up the blow.

"Yeah."

"Your - car?"

"I live in my car, Bradley."

Bradley stands there, rooted in place, and blinks at Colin slowly. The childlike bewilderment is gone, and his jaw sets in sharp, angular shapes.

"You live in your car."

"Yes."

"I thought you lived with your dad?"

"No, not for a year now."

"So you're living on the street."

"On the coast, actually."

Colin tries for a joke and sees it was a wrong decision almost instantly. Something falls shut behind Bradley's eyes, his face blank and void of all emotion.

 

"You're _homeless_."

"Bradley."

"You are homeless, and you haven't told me?"

"How would I tell you that, exactly?"

"I don't know, _Colin_. Maybe with something simple like _hi, Bradley, I'm homeless_?"

"I didn't thi- "

"No, you really didn't think at all, did you."

Bradley laughs, but it's mirthless and hollow, and then he takes a deliberate step back. It causes an odd, cutting pain that shoots through Colin at the sight.

" _Bradley_."

"What was the plan, then?"

"What?"

"With you talking to me that first time? And the second? Did you see I had money and wanted- "

" _Fuck_ , Bradley."

" _What_?"

"I wasn't after you money!"

"Then fucking what, Colin? Why did you keep asking me out?"

"You asked me out too."

Bradley gapes, and then closes his mouth to grit his teeth.

"Was I, or was I not, always honest with you?"

"That's different- "

"And what did _you_ do?"

"I, I -"

"You bloody lied about everything, Colin!"

"Not about _everything_!"

"Then pray, tell, what was real?"

"There's, uhm. _The_ , uhm. Okay, I fucking bought you coffee even though I'm _skint_."

"Right. A _coffee_. Woo. How do I know that's not just some ploy to lure in people with money?"

" _Bradley_."

"Don't look so affronted, Colin."

"Why are you saying things like that?"

"Really? You don't know? You want to know why?"

"I -"

"Because I fucking feel betrayed, that's why! I _trusted_ you and now you tell me you're homeless right after- _fuck_ , Colin. Was _that_ a lie too?"

"No, Bradley, _shit_ \- "

"Why did you do it?"

"What?"

"A grope to get to my wallet, maybe?"

"What? Hey, no -"

"Is that even your car? Shit, did you steal it like someone stole _mine_?"

"Bradley!"

"Is it?"

"Why does it _matter_?"

"Oh god you did steal it."

"I bloody didn't, I found it at the demolition site, not that that's _any_ of your concern."

"Right."

"You don't believe me?"

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Bradley I was _always_ myself- "

"Colin this wasn't something unimportant, like, I don't know, you not telling me you fell and broke your _arm_ when you were little."

"I just- "

"You just what, Colin."

 

Colin's head feels empty, and there is a terrible feeling of something heavy sinking down his stomach at the realization that it is all going horrendously wrong. It's almost absurd, the way he wants to make Bradley _see,_ but see what, exactly, even Colin doesn't know because as angry as Bradley is - and _boy_ is he pissed - there is some reason in his fury.

Colin's at a loss, completely at a loss for action because he feels there is nothing to redeem himself with. So he takes a step forward, which is, sadly, another wrong decision.

Bradley seems outraged, offended even that Colin thinks he can close the gap between them. The expression on his face is enough to stop Colin completely.

"I don't want anything to do with a homeless liar. And I didn't even mention your drugs yet, so _what_ , you're a junkie as well?"

"I am _not_."

"Either way I don't really care, Colin."

 

Bradley turns around and starts walking away.

 

*****

 

Colin watches Bradley leave.

 

It almost feels like an out-of-body experience, if it didn't hit a little too close to home, or if it wasn't a little too familiar. A twisted kind of _déjà-vu_ where people enter the circle and then leave him when they get to know him, as they walk away without a glance back and Colin, tired from the _recognizable_ similarity, feels like a wreck.

It's usually the numbness that follows a situation like this, the strange kind of fog that fills your mind and your limbs and slows you down, which is unsettling, sure, but at least it cancels out the pain so you welcome it with open hands. _This_ , however, is nothing like it, and Colin feels like he might be sick. The muscles of his stomach and his throat are constricting, painfully so, and he chokes on his own breath to still keep himself in check. Bradley's figure in the distance is getting smaller and smaller, and it's disappearing fast, as if he can't wait to get away from this place, away from _Colin_ as soon as possible.

 

Colin is rooted to the ground, he cannot move in all of his overwhelming turmoil despite the heaving breaths that come out of him. He's going to stand his ground, _damn_ it, because in case Bradley turns around and Colin gets one final look, he wants Bradley to see he's standing, on his _own_ , and that he was okay before this whole tentative and yet brave step into another reality, and that he's okay now as well, when Bradley's decided to call the game quits and take the ball home.

Bradley doesn't turn around, of course. And Colin hates himself for hoping, and wanting, just a little bit that Bradley _would_ , in fact, turn to have a look or maybe stop mid-step and realize this doesn't matter, _nothing_ matters and he'll come back. But it's not how world works, it's not how _Colin's_ world works, and he knows it. People don't just disregard everything, throw all the rationality through the proverbial or actual window for him, and -

 

Bradley, the small dark dot in the distance, turns the corner. Colin feels an odd kind of exhale leaving him, his eyes unblinking but glazing over and he can hardly see anymore, and he hates himself for it. He refuses to cry over something that was an inevitability, but knows that it is _exactly_ what will happen if he closes his eyes. The distress is confusing him, because where is the _apathy_ , his best friend who never deserts him in times like these, where did it _go_ because Colin needs it, needs it _badly_ , he needs for this discomfort that is settling down in his stomach to go away.

He wants to pretend he doesn't know why this time it is different, why he's aching all over as if Bradley hit him, and maybe it'd actually be better if he _did_ , but as good as he is at lying to himself, he can't quite do it right now. He suddenly wishes he hadn't sung that song earlier.

It was a moment of clarity slightly too big.

It's a challenge to himself to admit it, especially now that nothing good will come out of it, but there it is, it's staring him right in the face, taunting and provoking him with a sneer, and Colin bows his head in defeat.

 

He's fallen in love with Bradley.

 

He doesn't know precisely when it happened, it could have been during any of the _out-and-abouts_ they had, when Bradley would say stupid things, or trip over his own feet which was so uncharacteristic of him, or pull Colin back to wait for the green light to cross the street; Colin honestly doesn't know when the shift from _intrigued by this weird person called Bradley_ to _Bradley you are kind of amazing let me kiss you_ occurred, but he knows one thing:

He was stupid to let it happen in the first place.

Why did he have to be a nosy bastard a couple of months ago and go and have a look? Bradley could search for his car on his own and deal with the whole theft thing without Colin loitering about. The whole exchange would never happen and Colin would go back to being - if not exactly _happy_ , then at least _content_ with his situation and what he has, because it's not like anything, good or bad, could ever happen to him that way.

 

Now, laying down his defences so foolishly, he was _lured_ in, like a poor, unsuspecting animal, like someone who didn't know better and it angered him, it made him so impossibly mad at himself at how could he be so blind and just follow the shiny thing like some sodding magpie, or a prey that waves the surrender flag to its predator. He always kept his distance, always, because he knew what happens otherwise, but _no_ , for some ridiculous reason that he can't quite make out, he forgot everything he's learned so far, he muted out all the warnings in his head and made friends with someone. And then, _worse_. Somehow, his poor, stupid, starved heart fell in love because apparently Bradley was worth it, and he forgot how this would all map out in the end.

Colin stumbles a few feet back towards the bench and sits down. The irony isn't lost on him, how mere minutes ago they both sat here, looking at each other from underneath their eyelashes, inching closer like some 12 year olds who are too afraid to just go for it, and then grin brightly at each other when it was pretty obvious even to a blind person what was about to happen, and finally kiss. Indeliberately, Colin touches his lips and closes his eyes, recalling Bradley's mouth on his and remembering how it felt. When he opens them again, a couple of traitorous tears escape his eyes and he huffs out a mirthless laugh, aimed at no one in particular except for maybe at himself. _Idiot_.

 

A couple of pigeons land in front of him and coo inquisitively, but he just waves them off with one hand. 

"I don't have any crumbs for you tonight, _shoo_."

 

He smiles to himself, then. "But I do have a nice little mix for _me_."


	8. and every cell i touch when i hold you

Human nature is a curious thing. It's quite incomprehensible, really, how it sometimes takes matters into its own hands, disregarding the traits, and beliefs, and even expectations of a human being, and just acts of its own accord. Maybe it shouldn't come as such a surprise, but it does, it _always_ does. This is the one thing people will never get used to - of not being able to control things, situations, other people, and worst - not being able to control _themselves_. Because despite what you believe in, and how you react, there will be events, or extraordinary circumstances that reset your default settings and you find yourself responding in the most unwanted, _unexpected_ way.

 

That is what we do, after all. We aim to surprise - even ourselves.

 

Colin was no different. He told himself he's fine, that he _will_ be fine, and he firmly believed it, too. What he didn't take into consideration, however, was the notion of how deep he actually was, how far gone, and how certain actions, and _people_ , bring consequences that touch you and take root far beneath the surface.

Everything happens for a reason, he supposes. And this, the past two months, happened to show him he is strong enough to overcome everything. Right? It has to be that, it has to, because Colin doesn't understand why else would things go down like that.

So he brushes it off, at first, and pretends. He pretends so well that even _he_ believes his own lies, he is convinced this is for the better, that he was meant to go at it alone in the first place - and that the forces in charge of all this, of everything, let him have this little glimpse into the unknown, so he has grounds for comparison later when he's on his own again and sees, or agrees, that this is honestly how he operates best.

Because he has everything he needs, right?

 

Wrong.

 

Because this is where that traitor of our nature comes in. The place that is kept hidden even from ourselves, the locked-up storage of endless resources, and these resources can be the most powerful thing in existence. It is as if they thrive on every good emotion, and touch, and laughter, to collect and pack up for later - for dark, heavy times when our spirit is so low that we feel we might start shutting down. It is then, when the pain is too much and the numbness can't keep up to soothe all the hurt, and you feel like embracing the dark-pitched confusion, that your storage opens up, like a dam breaking, and brings back everything good you ever felt when you were at your happiest.

 

Most of the time, this just makes matters worse.

 

That is why it is so dangerous, and Colin can feel this on his own skin. He's had himself convinced, in the spiral of hurt and rejection and loneliness, that this is as bad as it gets, the cliché of _the only way is up_ playing around his mind, when suddenly - _bam_.

The reminiscing leaves him aching all over, panting for air and he scratches at his own skin like he wants to claw his way out, leave this body of disappointment.

Every emotion increases tenfold by just being brought forward, and Colin feels bereft - bereft of a life he never had, a life he's never meant to have; something that would happen in a parallel universe, but not here. Not now. Not to _this_ version of him.

When it gets harder to breathe with each passing hour, Colin digs through the trunk of his car and pulls out his drugs. He knows it will be challenging, because he seeks the opposite of what drugs usually do for him. He doesn't want clarity of the situation, of seeing the bigger picture and getting a glimpse of the explanation that calms him down, no. He wants to _forget_ , and this is where it gets tricky. He doesn't know what to do to reach that stage and he almost fears the self-sabotage that is bound to happen. He suspects a part of him doesn't really want to forget and will fight to the death.

 _Over my dead body_ , said his heart.

 

And this is what Colin doesn't want.

Despite the prospect of undesirable life and cases of self-destruction, Colin actually wants to live, the wish in him so strong he just keeps on going despite whatever is being thrown at him. He doesn't want to inject, not _really_ , because he has a feeling it will spiral out of control and have the opposite effect of what he wants. He never took drugs to escape, only to understand this enigmatic world better, and because of this he never really considered himself a full-on junkie. He doesn't need this. He can do without. But life of a homeless person offers different kind of struggles, and Colin just feels so _much_ , good or bad, that he needs this all to understand why things happen, to shed some light on certain events, to get proof he's right in thinking that the world is still worth fighting for.

 

He knows now, he does, why he hasn't taken anything for the past two months, apart from the two joints he's rolled when it was cold as fuck and he was hungry as _hell_ and needed something warm and misguidedly potent in him. He didn't take any because he didn't _need_ to.

People say we substitute one addiction for the other, and that statement might just hold water, he realizes.

Bradley came into his life - or not even that, there wasn't actually much movement involved since he just _stood_ there, looking lost - and Colin was taken with him instantly. He knows it's true, though he still doesn't like admitting it. There was _something_ , god knows what, because Colin still despises the Rich folk, but there you have it - his regular meetings with Bradley made him develop the fixation he never thought he'd have, a compulsion towards another human being that wasn't just physical but strangely intimate on an emotional level as well. He didn't need drugs to understand the complexity and oddity of the world because he wasn't _confused_. Bradley intrigued him, yes, but it didn't leave Colin upset or lost, it left him full to the brink with buzz and _joie-de-vivre_ , almost, and it was the best kind of fix Colin's ever tried.

 

But now the drug called Bradley was gone, and though Colin wasn't really at odds with why he was gone, why it happened, he still needed the escape.

So he took it.

 

****

 

He's out for days. If he's being pedantic and tries to recount the events, he supposes it was roughly three days of stumbling down the fine line between heaven and hell, bliss and blisters, relief and exertion. The second time, and the third and all the rest of them, the sting of a needle is almost sweet, the prick of metal through skin sending a flush of hysteria down his veins. He feels restless, and wide awake, oddly energized with the need to keep going.

And he goes.

He walks, and runs, and doesn't keep track of where he's headed. It's along the coastline, that's all he knows, and it's all that matters, really. When he wants to return to his car, he'll know how to go back, but until then, the fury within has got him covered.

He's took enough. He knows it and doesn't feel the need for more, knowing he's on the brink of sanity when he dances along the pebbles, covered with kelp, and sings made-up songs as he goes. If people come towards him, they take one good look and then make a de-tour, a _circle of avoidance,_ as Colin's dubbed it in his head, and speed up to pass him as fast as possible.

 

This doesn't bother Colin. In fact, it's much easier this way, it is how people were _supposed_ to treat him, see? They know where their place is, and they know where Colin's is, and the balance of all things remains unhinged. Unlike _some_ , who decide to play with complex social roles and- no. Colin will not think of him. The whole purpose of this mad mind and body exercise is to obliterate, eliminate unwanted thoughts of unwanted people, so he jogs faster, aware of how his body isn't up to this kind of exertions, that he hasn't eaten properly in days and that the only thing keeping him up from collapsing is the drugs flowing through him.

Later in the evening, the effects of his last hit are wearing off, and Colin can no longer run. He doesn't even want to and he's almost glad he's not given the choice, lest he make the wrong one. He stumbles around aimlessly, shivering all over and the fire in the distance brings him in like moth to flame.

 

It's a group of young and old people, all homeless and even a week ago, they'd seem much worse for wear to Colin. _Now_ they feel equals, all of them gloomy and sad, huddling together for warmth and a drag of smoke and this is one thing Colin can still offer - he has no heat left in him and he's tired, so _tired_ , but if they want his stuff, he can share. So he does.

An old lady stops next to him and when he offers her a drag from his joint, she takes it without question and pats his shoulder when she hands it back.

"Who broke your heart, love?"

 

Colin looks at her and smiles sadly, feeling the weight of his realization.

"I think I maybe broke his."

 

He spends his evening there, and for one night he sleeps, lost among others who stopped searching for themselves long ago.

 

*****

 

By the time Colin stumbles back to his car - and the fact that the car is intact and unharmed speaks a lot of just how isolated his little corner of the world is - there's been three days since he left. Three days of spinning out of control on the wings of bliss, three days of shivering even in the sunlight; three days of _not_ forgetting.

It's this that drives Colin back, because if it's going to be as fucked up as it looks, then he'd rather wave his nomad days goodbye and just spend his time miserable in his car. No one could argue his logic on that, Colin would like to see them _try_. But as resigned as it may seem, it's really just an illusion, because Colin's _stewing_ on the inside. These past three days were a slow turn, endless rotation above the fire, and Colin just can't accept the role of a dead pig roasting away, to have his meat eaten off his bones and he wouldn't even know it's happening.

 

He thinks he’s figured this out in the last possible moment – the drugs have offered enough of the clarity he usually seeks, and yet they haven't fried his brain completely yet, though how that didn't happen in his three days of walking the edge of over-dosing, Colin just doesn't _get_ \- and when he watches others, who, unlike him actually do look like crispy pigs above the flames, Colin knows they make him sick.

All of this is. It makes him fucking livid, his life and the choices he's made, though some of them quite necessary. He doesn't regret his actions that drove him to where he was a couple of months ago, no. He's a free man since then, so how could he? He does, however, feel a ridiculous amount of remorse when it comes to how things went down with Bradley. He still doesn't know when would be the perfect timing to disclose his secrets to him, and he wonders if there ever was a time like that during one of their meetings, but he knows now he should have said _something_. Having a friend, and then, for a very short, brief time potentially having someone that could be more than a friend, blinded Colin and he admits he'd probably lie through his teeth just to be able to keep him a little while longer.

 

At the same time, he detests himself. With having an active imagination comes a great responsibility, and Colin disregarded all the unwritten rules. He never wanted to lie to Bradley, and it was really more like not telling the truth than telling a lie, but still. If he puts himself in Bradley's skin, he does understand why Bradley was upset.

It still doesn't prevent Colin from feeling at least a little bit sorry for himself. Bradley's left a hole he doesn't quite know how to fill, but drugs really weren't a good alternative, he can see that. He used to feel in control if he took something, but now he just feels more lost despite the insight into what he really wants.

Drugs have lost the appeal, the shine; they make him worse now, now that he _knows_.

And what he knows is that he wants Bradley. Still. Always. Probably for a long time to come.

 

So when Colin comes back to his car, he lets himself go bananas.

During his freak-out he takes everything he has left, the pot and the needles and even the paper for rolling up his dodgy, shabby joints, and throws everything away. He's so sane in his state of hysteria that he worries his pigeons, or someone else might find these things, so he takes them to some secure place and destroys them there.

 

He doesn't want it, any of it. Not anymore. He tried to forget, and it didn't work.

So now he's going to take his persistent, stubborn memories and emotions, and he's going to _remember_.

 

*****

 

 

 

5/11/2011

Colin jumps, startled by the knocking noises against the car's window. Instantly, he remembers about the drug dealers and the money he owes them and thinks _crap_ , this is how I'm going to die, this is it, I don't have any money on me, they're going to _kill_ me-

 

"Colin!"

 

The voice is strangely familiar, and breathless and urgent as it joins in with the persistent knocking.

Colin's brain can't take the leap yet, and he finds himself still crouched, closed in on himself under the covers in the darkness, wondering why the drug dealers sound so _desperate_ instead of angry and cross and why the hell are they bothering with _knocking,_ and not bashing his car in?

"Colin, I know you're in there, _please_!"

And since when do they say please? Colin sits up and wills his foggy mind to clear up because he can't shake the feeling he's missing something important here. The only people who know where he's situated, are, after all, the -

 

_Oh fuck._

 

He scrambles to his knees and throws himself to the driver's window and looks out. There, lit up by the blinking streetlamp is Bradley, blushed cheeks and panting, his hair a mess. When he spots Colin he deflates a bit and stops knocking against the glass, but the look on his face stays distressed, as if he's beside himself with worry.

Colin looks on and feels strangely detached because - seriously? This isn't happening, right, it can't be because he's either only dreaming and Bradley is a mirage - a beautiful mirage that Colin is drinking up like he's dying from thirst, yes, but a mirage nonetheless - or his fix is still working for some strange reason, even though he was completely out of his drugs-induced bliss for days before, or -

 _Ah_. Colin knows now. It's as clear as day and it makes all the sense in the world. It's _not_ a dream or a phantom image, this Bradley is the real one. And he's here to either punch him in the face because he was so shocked the other day that he forgot to do it and is now back to get his closure, _or_ he's here to get all his money back, for all the coffees or teas and M &Ms and god knows what else that probably costs money and Colin forgot about. For one short, insane moment he hopes there wasn't any price on Bradley's dignity or pride or trust because then he's _fucked_ , he definitely can't afford _those_ , as Bradley leans in and frowns.

 

"Colin?"

 

Colin wishes he didn't leave the window open nearly half-way for the fresh air before he dosed off earlier. Right now, he'd rather bluff he's still asleep and wonders if he can get away with faking amnesia or retardation and pretend he's never seen Bradley before in his life.

"Yes?"

"Are you _high_?"

 

Of all the things Bradley could say to him, this is, surprisingly, the one that wakes Colin up. A surge of something warm shoots through him, but it's not happiness or even shock, no, it's _annoyance_ , and it may be unfounded, but that's what Colin is feeling. How dare Bradley just assume he's on drugs because he's staring at him and not responding? Bradley, who is well-fed and warm every god damn day of his life, and his father may be a numbed-out idiot who should pay more attention to his son emotions-wise, but still provides for him and gives him roof over his head?

"No, I'm actually _not_ , though I fail to see how it's _any_ of your business."

"Colin-"

"You think you can come back here and just _judge_ , or something? Or did you come to gloat? Did you want to check if I'm actually homeless and not lying about that _too_? _Fuck_ , I wish I didn't _actually_ throw my bloody stash away, because honestly, Bradley, right now smoking one feels like a fucking _great_ idea."

Bradley's face softens up in the way it has no bloody right to.

"You threw your drugs away?"

" _Yes_ , are you deaf?"

"Why?"

"I don't know."

" _Colin_ -" Bradley is right in front of the window now, his hands splaying out flat on the surface, and the pleading tone is back in his voice. "Colin please tell me."

And because it's Bradley, the sole person who makes Colin want to not be a disappointment, especially to him, and to do bigger and better than before although he feels he's doing just fine, thank you, Colin finds himself pouting, but at the same time he’s unlocking the door.

He almost has no time to scoot back because Bradley seems to be seizing his opportunity, as if he fears there won't be another one after this, and jumps in the car, slamming the door closed behind him. It's crowded inside with all the seats laid down, and it's difficult to even sit up straight, but Colin finds the air stuffy for all the other reasons than his car lacking space. He's quivering, and he knows it, and if Bradley knows it too, he's hiding it pretty well because all he's doing is staring at Colin as if he's grown a second head in the past week since they've last seen each other.

 

"I _was_ high, okay? I was. Maybe for three days straight after you left. I needed to block everything, but it usually takes one hell of a dose for me to do that instead of just enhancing every god damn emotion I feel, so I was stoned for _days_. And then one day, when I was wondering if I should just take some more, even though I'm afraid of over-dosing, _ha_ , can you _imagine_ , a part-time junkie who has an over-dose bloody phobia, I became angry. I got so _angry_ , Bradley, fuck, at everything - you, me, the bloody pigeons cooing outside and at the drugs that clearly didn't do their job where they were supposed to make me _forget_ -"

"Forget what?"

"Are you really that _daft_?"

"What?"

"So I fucking took everything I had and I broke the needles and burned the weed and then I got rid of it, and that was that and don't ask me what happened next because I don't bloody _remember_ the next two days, alright, that's how bad the coming down was, and _fuck_ , Bradley, why the fuck are you even _here_?"

 

Colin's face crumples at that, he can feel it, and he isn't proud of it, but he feels stuff pouring out of him, it's like the negative energy and all the pent-up shit inside is coming out, and it's all because _Bradley_ is there and oh _god_ Bradley's eyes are huge and then he grabs Colin's face with both of his hands.

"Colin I don't know if you want to hear this, but I'm so _proud_ of you- "

But Colin can't cope anymore, he honestly can't because the _contact_ , oh lord, Bradley is so close and it makes him gasp, because he expected Bradley to be forceful, or something, but Bradley's grip is actually gentle, and his eyes are on Colin and they're darting all over his face, and all Colin _can_ do is choke out,

 

"What _took_ you so long?"

 

Bradley stills, his thumbs stopping on Colin's cheeks where only seconds before they were drawing tiny, soft circles, and lets out a muffled, pained noise before he surges forward and kisses Colin hard.

 

Colin is only vaguely aware of his head hitting one of his bunched up hoodies that serve as a pillow as Bradley's body covers him. He stretches his neck and half-breathes half- _moans_ because Bradley is kissing him, and god how he's _kissing_ him, on the mouth and cheeks and wherever he reaches, his frantic snogs interwoven with pleas of breathed out  _Colin, Colin_ -

Colin grabs at Bradley's jacket on his back and holds on for dear life because he's not quite sure he can actually _survive_ this. He didn't even allow himself to fantasize about this, not in a million years, because thinking it even _remotely_ possible and knowing that the cold hit of reality would make any kind of day-dream really distressing, was a wake-up call enough for him. Now, however, this weird thing called chance, or maybe destiny, but definitely something _insane_ decided Bradley came back to him and it made Colin want to laugh and kick his feet like a five year old and then proceed to snog Bradley senseless.

" _Colin_."

"What? Bradley, what?"

"Fuck, Colin -"

Bradley kissed him again, then, not finishing his own thought and unsurprisingly, Colin had no protests against it whatsoever. Because dear god in heaven or wherever or whatever you are, this is _awesome_ and thank you, _thank_ _you_ , you've really outdone yourself this time, Colin thinks desperately as Bradley's teeth lightly graze his lower lip. Colin chases his mouth, but then Bradley pulls back.

 

"Colin I'm _sorry_ , I'm so sorry I was an _idio_ \- "

"No shut _up_ just shush _I_ was the idiot don't stop kissing me- "

"But it was so awful what I did and I can't actually believe I did it I mean _what_ a jerk, _right_ , and the thing is you're incredible, Colin, _incredible_ , and you make my life so much better, you make _everything_ better and christ, _Colin_ I can't-"

"Bradley, _Bradley_ oh my god just breathe."

"No I have to tell you I _have_ to, I'm going to burst, these past few weeks, _fuck_ , I was going crazy, have you any idea what you even do to me?"

"Oh, it's the same for m-"

"And I was thinking it's just a new friend, right, people are allowed to like friends who are fun and smart and lovely and have the bluest eyes in the world and the messiest hair and the lips to _die_ for, and I nearly had myself convinced, _seriously_ , I was _this_ close to actually believing that you just captured my interest because you're so different and that that's all there is, and _then_ you go and sing me that fucking _song_ , and Jesus Christ, Colin, that was the best thing that's ever happened to me.  I actually went and found the song online afterwards, and I listened to it, but you know what?"

"What?"

"You singing it is so much better, it was _amazing_ , you sounded amazing and you sang to _me_ and I need to hear it again, I do- "

"Anytime, Bradley, _any_ _time_ \- "

"But I'm yours, Colin, that's what I wanted to say, I'm _yours_ , just, god, please tell me you forgive me or I'm going to _die_ and-"

" _Bradley_!"

"What?"

" _Stop_ freaking out! I bloody _adore_ you, yeah?"

"Oh thank _fuck_."

 

Bradley blinked, his delirious stare of frantic eyes and spilling words wearing off, and exhaled shakily. He stilled, hovering over him and Colin thought _wow_. Wow, because - fucking _look_ at him, radiating like something brilliant and starlit, chest heaving, his face open with raw affection and it was for him, _all_ for him and the words _I'm yours_ hit him again, only this time they actually _registered_ and Colin let out a strained moan before crashing his lips against Bradley's again.

He pulled Bradley down, and Bradley went gladly, licking into his mouth as if he's going to die if he doesn't do just that. His lips were warm and demanding and Colin panted into his mouth when Bradley just kept on _going_ , his broad chest apparently taking the not-breathing to another level. They giggled when they bumped noses during their mouth-chasing play, and the only logical thing for Colin to do after Bradley's little victory was to bite his nose in retaliation.

"You're still the one who is all defenceless under me," Bradley smirked dangerously and dived for another kiss and Colin agreed with an odd nod that he was actually right. Only a few minutes later, he noticed though that Bradley wasn't covering him up completely, keeping himself in check by leaving a couple of inches between them with his knees firmly planted on either side of Colin's thighs. _Interesting_. Colin slid his hands down Bradley's back under his jacket, which Bradley approved of with a happy sigh, and settled them on his ass.

"Brad-ley-"

"Mmmm?"

"I'm not _completely_ powerless." With that, he pressed firmly down, making Bradley loose balance and land on top of him groin to groin.

"Wha _oh-_ "

 

Bradley moaned as Colin bucked up, and oh god this was _brilliant_ , Bradley was _hard_ , hard for him and was probably keeping his hips away for some weird, noble reason that only Bradley could come up with, but Colin didn't give a flying fuck about propriety because he's waited long enough, damn it. He's kept himself in check for so long and now Bradley was on top of him, grinding down and sucking on his lower lip and Colin thought, not for the first time tonight, that he might not survive this.

He lifted his legs up and hooked them around Bradley's back, pushing their hips closer together. He wanted to feel more of him, more, this wasn't enough- Bradley's hands slipped under him, grabbing at his ass and squeezing hard, and Colin wailed into Bradley's hair because at the same time Bradley decided it was a good idea to maybe suck on Colin's neck and everything Bradley did, he did with unrelenting enthusiasm. Colin opened his eyes and was pretty sure the roof of his car wasn't supposed to be spinning, but there you go, it was spinning on its axis like some merry-go-round with Bradley as the centre and Colin some lucky sod who got a ticket for a free ride. When their slow grinds, although not unfruitful because Colin was completely aware of just how hard exactly Bradley was, and Bradley probably had roughly the same idea about Colin, started to become too much because as delicious as it was, it obviously wasn't even nearly _enough_ , Colin realized he needed to stop Bradley. For improvements.

He was getting hotter and hotter from wearing way too many clothes for something like this despite the half-open window, and if Bradley wanted anything more from him he needed to give him a moment. And enough space to shuck some clothes. Bradley was doing something divine with his neck and was most likely acquainted with his scent so well that Colin's skin tasted like home to him by now, and Colin found it almost _impossible_ to stop him. Spontaneous combustion or stopping Bradley from licking his neck?

It was a no-brainer, really. But still -

 

"Bradley."

"Mhmh?"

"Bradley can you just- I need, _ah_ \- "

Bradley moved away and Colin nearly cursed at himself aloud and pulled Bradley back down because he looked utterly delectable, his cheeks a wonderful red and his lips swollen and ripe, but then he remembered that Bradley looked even more delectable _without_ any clothes on, so he let him sit up.

"Colin? You alright?"

" _Yes_ , yes of course I am, I just- "

 

Colin started taking off his clothes, his coat and then the hoodie, and oh god no _wonder_ he was so hot, it was his _warmest_ hoodie, the one he always wore in the winter, and looked up at Bradley before he pulled off his short-sleeved shirt. Bradley was running a hand through his hair, repeatedly, almost absent-mindedly as if he can't be bothered to stop because he's kind of - and Colin is pretty sure he's _not_ imagining it - too busy staring at Colin's chest like he wants to _devour_ him.

Which, if Colin is completely honest, he's totally fine with. _More_ than fine, actually, but he needs Bradley naked too. You know. _For research_.

"Bradley."

Bradley meets his eyes, finally, and breathes a faint _yes?_ before his eyes dart back down to Colin's lips and then lower to his chest.

"I need you to use the _monkey see, monkey do_ approach right now. Do you think you can do that?"

"Sure, okay."

 

Colin waits a couple of moments, but when Bradley doesn't move, apart from his mouth that hang slightly open now, Colin looks down at his naked torso and then pointedly back up at Bradley's.

"Bradley."

"Yes?"

" _You're_ the monkey."

 

Bradley blinks then, sudden clarity in his eyes.  " _Oh_."

 

For the next two minutes, all that a passer-by could see from the outside would be a mad, frantic fumble of scrambling limbs, and elbows getting in the way, and Bradley hitting his head on the ceiling when Colin bent down and bit his nipple, and then Colin banging his face against the window while trying to pull both of their jeans down - which naturally ended in a complete failure and in Bradley howling with laughter at him.

When Colin finally managed to pull the very last article of clothing off, which was also the most _important_ one, since it was Bradley's _underwear_ , Bradley was still giggling, and Colin's head was still ringing a little. But holy fuck and hell, they were finally completely naked and Colin climbed in Bradley's lap, grinding his hips down impatiently.

Bradley's head snapped back, thankfully hitting some discarded piece of clothing instead of any of the car parts, and he grabbed at Colin's arms.

" _Colin_ -"

"I _know_ , fuck- "

"Colin- _ah_ , tell me what you want?"

"Uh _-_ "

" _Anything_."

"Bradley-"

"Yeah?"

"I don't, I'm sorry, shit, I don't have _anything_ -"

"My wallet, get my wallet where is it where did you throw my jeans it's in my _jeans_."

 

Colin threw himself off, wanting to stay on top of Bradley and keep grinding their cocks together, but wallet must mean only one thing and holy christ _yes_ , he hopes it means what he thinks it means, because if he's not mistaken they're moments away from _shagging_ , and Bradley is nearly cross-eyed from want and it's causing Colin's insides to switch places and melt, and then crystallize into something hot and sharp - or _something_. He's not sure something like that is even possible, but he supposes it happens. Especially if you're naked with Bradley.

By some miracle the jeans he grabs at are Bradley's, and the wallet mercifully opens _and_. There it _is_. The Holy Grail. He puts the packet with a condom in his mouth and sticks the wallet in the back-jeans pocket and turns back to Bradley - Bradley, who is looking at him fully unguarded, already half-way to being utterly debauched, and gasps when his eyes fall onto what Colin is holding in his mouth. He reaches for the condom and pulls it out from between Colin's lips and starts tearing it open, but he can wait for a second longer, he has to, because Colin is closer to some _other_ part of Bradley's body that he likes and Colin wants to _taste_.  He bends down and licks a long stripe from the base to the tip of his cock, relishing in Bradley's cry and slight buck of hips.

"Shit, _Colin_."

 

Colin looks up from under his eyelashes and meets Bradley's hazy, lustful stare. He smirks and then, without breaking their gaze, licks at the head. Bradley's back nearly snaps at his arch, but then his arms pull Colin up and he kisses him roughly, biting at his lips and soothing them over with his tongue almost instantly. Kissing Bradley is pretty fabulous and any other day Colin would be quite happy with that, but now Bradley is squeezing and stroking his cock, his warm, strong hand all around him, teasing him, and Colin can't even think straight anymore.

"Bradley, Bradley _Bradley_ -"

"Yes?"

"Fuck me I _need_ you to fuck me-"

" _Colin_."

 

Colin takes the condom and doesn't wait for Bradley to respond; he starts rolling it on and is so taken with the sight before him and the movement of his hand that he keeps stroking Bradley's cock, now over the condom, and is only shaken out of his daze when Bradley swats at him, and moans, pleading him to stop.

"Colin, _shit_ , you're going to _kill_ me tonight- "

"I've been wanting you for _ages_ , Bradley."

" _Fuck_ , okay, okay yes of course I want to, but Colin I forgot, we don't have any lube and- "

"Bradley."

"What?"

"How do you feel about strawberry Vaseline?"

 

Bradley stops kissing at Colin's neck and stills for a moment.

" _What_?"

"Strawberry Vaseline."

"You have-"

"Strawberry Vaseline."

" _Wow_. How on _earth_ \- "

"Does it even matter? I think it should work and if you don't have any allergies then I don't know why there aren't any of your fingers up my ass yet."

 

Colin wants to prattle on, and put in a few more good words for his friend the vaseline he's fished out of the side of the car, but then he finds himself suddenly out of breath because Bradley flipped them over, and was now grinning down at him.

"That can be arranged."

 _Oh_. Colin breathes, and can't help but stare at Bradley's body above him. A small shiver runs right through him at the thought of what's about to happen, and then his eyes close of their own volition when Bradley lifts his leg up and hooks the ankle on his shoulder.

"Colin."

"Hmm?"

"Look at me."

Colin realizes he's pretty much done for because he can't say no to Bradley at all, and looks up. Bradley gives him an intense, burning look, and then turns his head to the left and starts placing open-mouthed kisses to Colin's leg.

"You have to look at me, so you don't forget that it's _me_ who's doing this to you."

"As if I could _forget_ , _oh-_ "

Bradley is running slick, sweet-smelling fingers down the inside of Colin's thigh as his tongue circles the round bone of Colin's ankle, and Colin just gasps, not sure whether to concentrate on Bradley's words or his fingers or _tongue_ because they're all equally, ridiculously impressive.

 

"Because it _has_ to be me, Colin, only me. Everything is open for discussion but this. You're the one thing I am _not_ sharing."

As he finishes, Bradley simultaneously sucks down hard on the skin of Colin's leg and pushes a finger inside him.

 

Jesus _Christ_.

 

Colin arches and grabs at Bradley's hand, the one that's planted firmly on Colin's thigh, and just keeps his hold on it. He needs something to ground him, a stable point because there seems to be so much movement, and of _course_ there is movement, Colin himself can't keep still but pushes down on Bradley's fingers that never _stop_ moving, pushing, stretching him, and Colin wills his body to work with them faster. It didn't feel like it before, but now that things are laid out in the open, that both of them pretty much know how the other one feels, Colin realizes that the whole foreplay was playing out for more than just the past twenty or so minutes, that it _has_ been, in fact, going on for several weeks by now and that they're both at their wits' end when it comes to holding back.

 "It's good, Bradley, it's _good_ I'm all good just go- "

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes I'm sure bloody _do_ it, shit- "

 

Colin had a pretty sound idea he was desperate for Bradley's cock, but he has to admit he never thought it was actually _that_ bad. He was lifting his hips away from Bradley's fingers and then up, up, wanting for Bradley to just hurry up, but the lifting itself was a bit of a challenge because Bradley still had one of his legs hooked up on his shoulder. He grinned down at Colin and grabbed his ankle.

"Going somewhere, Colin?"

"I, uh- "

"This leg is staying right where it is."

Oh fuck. Colin moans, and lifts his hips up once more, the only leverage he has is his other leg, which is now being lifted by Bradley and wrapped around his middle. Colin thinks he might just die, and maybe he sounds awfully repetitive, and there may be a time in the future when a naked Bradley won't have this kind of effect on him, but right now, Colin is only semi-conscious from Bradley intruding his senses, and functions, the smell and feel and taste of him almost too much. Bradley enters him in one long, sensual thrust and throws his head back, exposing his neck and all the tantalizing lines and tendons that Colin wants to lick and bite and _mark_ , but can't reach.

"Jesus, Colin."

"Bradley _move_."

"You're so fucking _tight_ \- "

"That's why I need you to _move_ \- "

"- it's like I'm being strangled through my cock- "

 

Colin would love to have this little chat with Bradley, he would, because he really likes conversing with him about anything and everything, but right now he needs Bradley to be quiet, or if not quiet then at least focused on _other_ tasks at hand, so he squeezes his muscles hard around him.

Bradley's moan shakes the whole car.

It's enough, though, to get him to move, which was Colin's primary objective anyway, and _lord_ does the boy _move_. He's gripping Colin's hips as he drives into him, again and again, and he's holding on so tightly Colin just knows there will be finger-shaped bruises there later. But it's going to be _Bradley's_ finger-shaped bruises, and that is _very_ much okay, so Colin throws his arms up and behind his head and just tries to keep up. Bradley is a fast pace of thrusts and rolling hips, his face pressed into Colin's knee and Colin feels every puff of breath that Bradley gasps out into his skin.

It's mind-blowing, really, and Colin has one of those out-of-body experiences yet again, because he still can't quite believe it's happening, _any_ of it. He expects himself to wake up, cold and alone, and if this is a dream it's a _very_ good dream indeed, and either way, Colin wants to consume and deplete this fantastical Bradley in every way possible.

Bradley lets go of Colin and it's up to him now to keep himself up, the muscles in his lifted thigh already burning a little, but he'll be _damned_ if he stops because of something unimportant like that, seriously.

He wonders what Bradley is doing, and he notices Bradley's cant of hips becomes progressively more erratic as he keeps on thrusting. Bradley is _close_ , and this thought alone makes Colin inexplicably giddy, and it's like it hits him for the very first time ever, and he feels like a silly fifteen year old, but he honestly can't help it - he grins like mad at the thought that they're actually fucking and that Bradley is about to come.

 

"Colin- "

"Yes?"

"Stop making that fucking face- "

"Is it putting you off?"

"No it's helping, actually, so _could_ you, please?"

"Bradley, Bradley."

"What?"

"Where's your self-restraint?"

 

Bradley glares down at him, sweat dripping off his forehead in tiny droplets, and then murmurs something that Colin could swear sounds a lot like _I'll show you self-restraint_ , and Colin wails and curses out loud because _fuck_ , it _was_ what Bradley's just said, and Bradley is apparently not doing things by half either because he's keeping to his just-made promise.

He stills, completely, still inside Colin, and starts running his hands up and down Colin's slick torso. Colin needs Bradley to move, he does, because it's driving him crazy the way it feels to have Bradley filling him up completely, but Bradley doesn't budge. When Colin's arms come up, one of Bradley's hands intersects them and lowers them down back the way they were before and holds them there, his other hand rubbing a sharp line between Colin's nipples and then down, to press on some of the bruises that are already forming around his hip bones.

 

"Fuck, _Bradley_ \- "

"I'm not moving until you come, Colin."

" _Fuck_."

 

Bradley's hand starts kneading the skin of Colin's stomach then and avoids his cock entirely.

"Bradley please -"

"Please what?"

" _Touch_ me."

Bradley hums his agreement and moves his hand in sensual little circles ever closer, and then grips him tight. Colin arches at that, but as he does he just impales himself on Bradley a little bit more, and sobs at the sensation of Bradley rubbing against that sweet spot inside him, making him see spots of colour he's pretty sure shouldn't be there at this time of the night. Bradley's stroking him firm, and steady, the rest of him still unmoving and oh _god_ Colin can't take it anymore -

 

"Alright, alright I take it _back_ you have awesome self control you do just, god, _Bradley_ -"

 

Bradley grins down, looking completely wrecked but also like someone who's just been handed a golden ticket. "I don't know, I kinda _like_ this."

"Oh, fuck."

He starts stroking him faster, and bucks his hips minutely, just enough for Colin to feel the slight movement, and bends down to his face. Colin's leg, the one that's lifted up, is now in a ridiculous position and Colin never knew he's so fucking bendable, but it's creating a whole new position and now Bradley's hitting his prostate with even the smallest of motions.

Colin's moments away from getting his brain blissed out on a ridiculous orgasm, when Bradley stops, again, and lets go of his hands. Colin moans his consent and starts gripping Bradley's back, when Bradley shakes his head fast and covers Colin's mouth with his hands.

 

" _Shhh_ , I think someone's coming."

 

Colin cranes his neck to an impossible angle to talk around Bradley's hands, and gasps.

"Yeah, that would be _me_ \- "

Bradley looks down, surprised, and then grins like mad. " _Oh_."

"Yes so could you shut up or something and get back to work? No one's _here_ , Bradley."

 

Bradley ducks and kisses him, and then licks across Colin's lips.

"You feel _exquisite_ , Colin."

And then he starts slamming into him.

Colin isn't even sure when was the moment when he couldn't take it anymore and started coming, but there it was, he was moaning something that was definitely some variation of Bradley's name, and he was sobbing into his neck as Bradley cursed above him, something about _feeling_ him coming, Colin's not too bothered with it because of _course_ Bradley can feel him coming, and he was clawing at Bradley's back, feeling his whole body spasming while riding his high. Just when he starts calming down and mouthing at Bradley's lips for a kiss, Bradley shudders like mad, poor Colin's car going with him again, and comes with last few thrusts into Colin.

 

Several long, long minutes go by.

 

Colin still can't move.

 

"Fuck, Colin."

"I was gonna say the same thing to you."

"I think I broke something."

"Yeah, me. You _beast_."

Colin's grinning, but Bradley can't see him, positioned like he is, so he scrambles up fast, a worried expression on his face.

"Colin, oh god, did I hurt you?"

"No, you _muppet_. I was joking. Lie back down."

"We need to clean up this mess, do you have any napkins or -"

 

Colin lifts an eyebrow and looks around. "Sure. You want the 3-layered ones or the ones with imprinted still-life fruit?"

Bradley's mouth twitches in amusement. "Right."

He sits up and groans, his hand reaching behind him to rub a kink out of his back, and fishes around their discarded clothing with his other hand.

"What are you looking for?"

" _Aha_ , there it is."

Bradley brings up a sock, _his_ sock, and starts wiping Colin's chest with it.

" _Bradley_."

"Yes?"

"You just ruined your sock."

"Well I can't use one of yours, can I, god knows how many you even have."

 

There's an odd kind of love confession behind this, Colin is _sure_ of it, and it makes his fucking heart tingle at the sight.

 

"Colin? You okay?"

"You ruined. Your bloody sock. For _me_."

 

Bradley grins and chucks the now soiled sock over his shoulder.

 

"I'm a hopeless romantic, I know."

 

*****

 

Everything's been quiet for a while, so Colin actually thinks Bradley is already asleep. He's also glad that Bradley is the one spooning him, and thus not being able to see his face, because he doesn't know how he'd explain all the faces he's been pulling inadvertently, probably subconsciously for the past half an hour. There's a whole range of them that would put text message smiley faces to shame, really, because Colin has a whole spectre of them - from tiny smirks and squinty eyes to full-on hamster-cheeks, head-splitting grins, and back to content, peacefully happy ones you can usually spot on an old person who is overlooking their grandchildren.

Colin's not _that_ far yet, he promises, he's not thinking about his and Bradley's grand kids, hell, he didn't even get to the wedding bit yet, but he'll admit he's thinking about all sorts of things that involve Bradley and immediate future, and it's making his face and heart ache in the most delicious way possible.

 

"Let's go away."

" _What_?"

"Let's get away, Colin, leave this stupid town, and our even more stupid _fathers_ and just-"

"You're _awake_?"

"Yes?"

" _Bradley_."

"What?"

"Wow."

"That's not really an affirmative or negative response, Colin."

"Just- _wow_."

"What do you think?"

"You've thought about this before, haven't you? This isn't just some post-sex haze brainstorming and you won't remember a thing tomorrow?"

"I've been thinking about this for the past few days _constantly_ , yes."

"I - _okay_ , give me a moment."

 

Colin turns around in Bradley's arms and faces him wide-eyed, thinking he needs to _see_ this, seriously, he needs to see words coming out of Bradley's mouth or he won't actually believe that this is happening.

 

"Have you thought of _where_ we would go? And what would we do, Bradley? And, okay I know I'm kinda used to this whole homeless thing and maybe it doesn't seem like much, but I would never wish it upon _you_ , Bradley, never. You must know-"

"Hey, _hey_."

"What?"

"Relax, Colin. Just lay back down, _here_ , there you go. First of all, I know you wouldn't want me on the street, but I don't like seeing you without an actual roof over your head _either_. So no, I didn't plan for us to go somewhere like that. I was thinking we could go to London."

" _London_?"

"Hey, what did I say about lying down? Okay. Now stay put. Yes, London. My sisters live and work there, Nat and Stephanie, I know I've mentioned them before. They’re a bit older so it’s been just me and dad for quite a while, but we're still in touch and they keep harassing me to come over."

"How come you never left before?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know _you_ until now."

 

Colin does the face where his cheeks actually disable his vision and he looks more like a rabid squirrel than an actual human, and snorts.

"Oh, Bradley. That's so sweet, you're making my teeth ache- _ow_ , you _pinched_ me!"

"Shut up. I'm trying to have a moment with you here."

"Oh."

"Yeah so you think you could hold your blabberhole sealed for a minute?"

 

Colin makes the gesture of locking his mouth and then eating the key. Bradley just rolls his eyes.

 

"I never left because I don't think I actually saw the situation as it was, _before_."

"You're dating your existence as BC and PC?"

"What?"

"Before Colin and Post- "

"What did we say about you being quiet?"

"Mhhh."

"Good. But it's true, you kinda opened my eyes. You were the catalyst I needed, my _push_ out of here. I was always pretty miserable with my father, even on those rare occasions when he's actually at home, but I thought that's just how everyone is. I have some acquaintances at Uni, but we never really talked about personal issues- _yes_ , I know, not really good friends all in all, you can stop rolling your eyes. Anyway, after _we_ talked I realized that it's true, he'll never be happy with me, at least not at this point in time where I haven't actually done anything on my own, and how I'll never be good enough at anything I do. There's also this thing I can't shake, the feeling he's blaming me for my mother dying even if he's never said it aloud.  And I think I knew all this before, deep down, but I thought, maybe, that I _should_ be miserable, that it's what I deserve. But then _you_ came and you brought your ridiculous ideas and happiness - _oh_ , by the way, did you know that apparently, happiness should be spelled _hapenis_?"

"Bradley."

"What?"

" _Bradley_."

"Colin your face wha _mmmph_ -"

 

Their discussion is postponed for several long minutes because Colin doesn't think he can watch Bradley talk without interrupting him with kisses every three seconds. So it's best he gets it out of his system in one go, right?

Bradley actually has to pull away with a pop and breathes loudly, his eyes hooded and unfocused.

"Okay. Okay, yeah, uhm. Where _was_ I _?_ "

"You were telling me how amazing I am."

"Oh, _ha_."

"Don't deny it, you totally were."

"Alright, I really was. You made me _think_ , Colin, I was so happy whenever I was with you, and so miserable whenever I was at home, and I realized it doesn't have to be that way, you know? That I could make my own way in life, on my own terms, without someone putting me down and making me unhappy, and I think it's high time I do just that."

"Well done, Bradley."

 

Bradley pulls him closer, his palms splaying wide on Colin's back, and laughs.

"I feel like you're my shrink right now."

"So sorry I can't offer you a sofa."

"Your backseats are doing just nicely."

"Just as long as you know that my services are only pro-bono until you keep shagging my brains out."

"Duly noted."

"Good."

 

Bradley's smile for him is so goofy again that Colin, out of everything he could be thinking, actually, opts for _stupid_ again and brings up the comparison from last week - but Bradley is _really_ looking at him again as if Colin is his favourite cucumber, and how are you supposed to react to that? Colin has no idea, so he just prattles on.

"So when did your sisters move away then?"

"Nearly ten years ago, actually, when they decided to attend uni in London. They’re twins so naturally they had to go together, which is a bit bollocks if you ask me, because I can’t believe they were interested in the same stuff. But then again it doesn’t really matter, I guess, because from what I can tell they’re happy and well-off now, and I should be glad they keep inviting me over. They don’t really come back here to visit _us_ , but they always send cards around the holidays."

"But, Bradley."

"Yes?"

"You can't just drag me along, they can't take in _two_ lodgers."

"Colin."

"Yes?"

"Please don't take this as an ultimatum, because it isn't, god, it _isn't_. If you'd rather stay here I'd understand, or I'd lest _try_ to, and frankly you'd probably break me in _half_ by staying. But I'd have to deal. It's not my choice to make, I can only do that for myself. But I do know this - I don't _want_ to do it without you."

"What if you change your mind? We only met like two months ago."

"Does it feel only two months to you?"

"Not really, no."

"Nor it does to me. Honestly, Colin - and, okay, I don't know how valuable I am to you, so I can only speak for myself here. And you're going to think I'm a fucking sap, but you have to know there's no one quite _like_ you. You're one of a kind and you came my way and I'm pretty sure letting you go would be pretty much the worst thing that could happen since the last ice age. Oh, and I didn't tell you this yet, but I actually made father donate some money for the polar bears thing, and- are you _okay_?"

The honest response would be _no_ , actually, but then Bradley would think Colin didn't like what he's just said to him, so he ducks and hides his face in Bradley's neck, and tries to blink the stinging in his eyes away.

"Colin?"

Okay, maybe answering with a _sniff_ wasn't exactly the best idea he's had either.

"Colin are you _crying_?"

"No?"

"What’s wrong? What is it?"

"Oh god. I'm crying because you're an _idiot_ , Bradley."

"What? _Why_?"

"That you think I wouldn't want to come with you. For thinking of yourself less than you think of me - you should always put yourself first regardless of anything, Bradley. And for believing in me without reserve, it's just insane and unreal and _fuck_ , yes, _yes_ I think we should go, just pack up and leave and try our way in this crazy-ass world and- _"_

"What?"

"Did you close that deal on that car already? Because I know you had some money saved up and maybe it'd be better if you used it for this, to start a new life and I'm not saying for _us_ , I can't take your money but at least for _yourself_ -"

 

Bradley moves back to look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Who's the idiot now?"

"Huh?"

"No, I didn't buy that car yet and I'm glad I didn't because yes, I plan to use that money to get us started somehow. My sisters will help until we get some jobs or something, we _will_ find something, Colin, we _will_ , but if you think I'm not using it for _us_ , you're dead wrong."

Colin thinks he’s feeling slightly dizzy again.

"Punch me."

"What?"

"Punch me, or something, because I'm pretty sure my stupid brain just experienced a terminal hallucination where I'm imagining something ridiculous and I need to be sedated or put down or I don't even know, maybe I'm already in a bed in a lab and there's tiny rats testing my brain activity to see how long I'll be able to power their capital- "

"Colin."

"Yes, big rat that looks like Bradley?"

" _Breathe_."

"Okay."

 

They fall silent after that, both lost in their own thoughts. Colin's still doing a plethora of faces, this time facing Bradley, but he doesn't worry because he thinks it might just be okay. Bradley's said some pretty huge stuff, after all.

Soon, Colin's _stare longingly at Bradley's chest and wish you wouldn't be too tired to have another round_ thoughts were interrupted with Bradley yawning like a hippo, and murmuring that they should continue this discussion in the morning. Colin nods, and then laughs as Bradley turns and rolls over, demanding, "You spoon _me_ now."

He's half-way to his dreamland, warm and sated and inhaling a lungful of the scent of Bradley's skin every few seconds, as he hears a barely audible hum of _i choose this too, Colin._

 

Fucking hell.

 


	9. and now i see you cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: a scene of minor violence, but my beta assures me it's nothing too bad

_ 6/11/2011 _

__

The morning is uncharacteristically sunny.

 

And Colin is uncharacteristically warm.

 

And his ass is uncharacteristically sore.

 

He sits up, abruptly, and hits his head on the roof of his car. Crap, now he aches at _two_ ends of his body, and he much prefers a cup of tea for waking up than a bludgeoning in the head. With a _car_. But before he can even stop rubbing at the sore spot on his forehead, another hand comes around his waist and pulls him down. When Colin opens his eyes again, Bradley is looming over him, golden with morning light and smiling and has _ground zero_ hair and is _naked_ , and Colin nearly sits up again. Bradley starts chuckling.

"Calm down, silly. Let me look at your head yeah?"

Colin lets him, because - well alright he doesn't have a particularly valid reason, but Bradley pushed him down into the blanket and starts scrutinizing his face and that is more than big enough reason for Colin. He needs to bite the insides of his mouth to prevent himself from smiling, but it doesn't stop his cheeks from heating up. Bradley is close, really close, and his skin smells so _good_ , sort of like cloves, a bit spicy but sweet, the mulled wine intoxication of the scent and taste combined, and is warm and smooth and Colin needs to look his fill, because the streetlamp during the night _clearly_ didn't do Bradley justice. And it's not like he hasn't seen him like this before, they went swimming together after all, but Colin didn't _really_ look then, or maybe he didn't _let_ himself look because before, Bradley was just a great _body_ , and now -

Now he was his. Kind of. _Hopefully_. He came to find him, _ran_ by the looks of it, and invaded all of Colin's world and his car and all of his senses like only _he_ can, and then he held him close and proposed to get away together.

 

Away. _Together_.

 

Colin seemed to be developing a tick because every time a certain memory involving Bradley materialized in his mind, his body shot up. He would rise, again, but Bradley was practically on top of him and he laughed out right, aloud this time, and pressed into Colin with all of his body. He waited and looked at Colin until his eyes stopped darting around and focused back on Bradley.

He felt his breath catch in his throat at Bradley smiling at him - warmly, happily, and lifting his eyebrows, clearly amused as hell - and wondered if he'll ever get used to the sight.

"Why don't you tell me what's up?"

"Up? Nothing, honestly, what are you- I _don't_ -"

" _Colin_."

"Yes?"

"You're babbling, and you're flitting about like a scared fawn."

"A _fawn_ , Bradley? Really?"

"Shut up, it was a beautiful comparison."

"You gonna write me poetry now?"

"Only if you're good."

"But I'm always good."

"Right."

 

Bradley smirked at him as if _good_ is the last word in the vocabulary with which he could describe Colin, and Colin cranes his neck and plants a fast kiss on that silly face just because he _can_. He feels irrationally giddy afterwards and settles back down, grinning, which doesn't escape Bradley's watchful gaze.

"What?"

"I want that poem now."

"Oh really?"

"Unless you can't deliver?"

"Oh I _can_."

"What's it about, then?"

"It's more like a _narrative_ poem, I'll admit I'm shit with rhymes."

"That's okay. We complete each other, remember?"

 

Bradley snorted and bit his own lip while still grinning down at Colin.

"Alright. My poem is about a baby fawn."

"You can't say _baby fawn_ , one of these two is redundant."

"What?"

" _Fawn_. It already means it's a baby deer. So just fawn."

"It's my poem, Colin. So shut up and enjoy."

Colin felt like he might burst any moment now. It wasn't the angry, itchy kind, but it was bubbling up inside nonetheless, warming him up and making him want to reach for the man on top of him. He nearly gave in, into the urge and cut off Bradley again with another kiss, but then he decided watching him wrinkle his forehead, to try to come up with something for Colin was more than enough right now.

 

Maybe it _was_ that. Or maybe Colin couldn't quite believe they're doing something as normal, casual, _mundane_ even as having a morning pillow-talk snuggle and banter in a bed-wannabe place, disregarding everything around them, everything from the actual car, Colin's homelessness and his drugs to Bradley's father completely. Instead of making it complicated as fuck, they _snuggled_.

Naked. And suddenly Colin wished Bradley's poem would be a haiku so he could do something about this nude situation sooner rather than later.

"Okay."

Bradley lay down, half on top of him and half on the side, letting him breathe but pressing his face to Colin's hair, and began murmuring into his ear.

"So there was a _baby_ fawn, and it was called Colin. Yes, that was his name, and you had it coming, now stop fidgeting and let me continue. So this baby Colin was the prettiest little fawn in all of the forest, thus earning the jealous wrath of all the girl deer."

" _Does_."

"What?"

"They're does, you really have no idea about this whole hoofery thing, do you?"

" _Hoofery_?"

"And it doesn't sound all that much like a poem, even if it is a modern one."

"That's because I can't concentrate."

"Why can't you concentrate?"

"Your cock is poking me in the knee."

"What can I say, it finds your artistic efforts kind of riveting."

 

Bradley is chuckling again, and this is kind of everything Colin's ever wanted, honestly, because he has someone to hold close and to talk and laugh with, and he promises himself he'll let himself have this, and not panic what will come out of it. Something is bound to happen because the situation wasn't really all fun and games - or sex and laughter, in their case - and decisions will have to be made. Difficult ones. But right now, Colin was grinning so hard he was afraid his face might split and indulged himself in listening to Bradley, small puffs of air hitting Colin's neck from Bradley's chortling.

Bradley lifted himself up, then, hovering over Colin and displaying the flexed muscles of his arms and chest.

"What if I told you I find it riveting too?"

Colin swallows at the sight of Bradley's eyes sparkling with _something_ , something dangerous and _dark_ , and breathes out dumbly.

"Your poem?"

Bradley smirks wickedly and licks his lips.

"Your _cock_ , Colin."

 

"Oh."

 

It's all Colin has time to say, because Bradley doesn't wait for more. The poem, by the looks of it, will remain a work in progress because Bradley has other priorities on his list right now, and _all_ of them include making Colin hard as a rock, or maybe that's a by-product and Bradley actually wants to make him come his brains out, Colin thinks breathlessly as Bradley lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses along Colin's torso as he goes.

 

" _Bradley_ -"

" _Yes_ , Colin?"

 

And fuck, he _cannot_ be serious, Bradley is humming something as he nuzzles the thin trail of hair that lead down from Colin's bellybutton, and then proceeds to draw complicated patterns around it with his tongue, and Colin just gasps and throws an arm over his eyes and _waits_.

Bradley is taking his time, his fingers tracing the bones of Colin's skinny hips as if he knows - and he probably does because Colin's heaving chest is a tell-tale sign of it - how far gone Colin already is and wants to tease him until he loses it completely. His head moves lower, then, and Colin's hips lift on their own at the feel of warm breath all over Colin's cock.

 _Fuck_. Colin's other hand reaches down and tangles itself in Bradley's hair, just to be in _some_ kind of contact with him, as Bradley presses his lips at the base of Colin's cock.

Colin is reaching the point of no return, the point of _begging_ , and knows he'd do it shamelessly. Bradley's mouth is all he wants now and will do anything to stop Bradley teasing him almost mercilessly.

Bradley's lips travel up, slowly, from the base to the tip but barely touching the skin and then lift off and away, repeating the motion from the base up again. Colin moans, trying to cram the lust and pleasure and annoyance all into one sound and thinks he did it pretty well, and that he got his message across clearly, as Bradley stops, his mouth pressed against the underside of the head, and slides a finger tantalizingly slow over the balls.

Colin bucks.

 

"Bradley, _fuck_."

" _Mmm_?"

"Were you a _torturer_ in your previous life?"

"Is it working?"

" _Yes_ it's fucking workin _ah_ \- "

Bradley doesn't wait, again, and maybe it's a trait of his but Colin really doesn't have time right now to draw a full personality chart because dear _god_ , Bradley's just sank his mouth on his cock and it's hot and wet and that _tongue_ , Jesus shit it's doing something _obscene_ while Bradley hollows out his cheeks and _sucks_ , and Colin shudders and wails at the assault. He should have known that Bradley's enthusiasm doesn't extend to just spending a whole day in the pool, or laughing so hard Colin's own insides are vibrating with it, no, the bastard sucks cock like he was born to do it, like it's the best thing in the world that moment and he just fucking _goes_ for it.

He must know Colin can't hold on much longer, though, because he starts stroking him, rubbing him in absolutely _no_ rhythm at all while he keeps sucking on his head, and yet it feels utterly divine, so ridiculously good Colin has no trouble sharing it all with Bradley.

 

"Bradley. _Bradley_ \- "

"Mhh?"

"This is so _good_ , fuck _-_ "

"Co-lnn."

"Oh shit, _talk_ while you do that yes- "

 

Bradley grins dirtily, and, right, with doing what he's doing right now, there's really no _other_ way to grin, but still, it's absolute _filth_ and it's making Colin go crazy and Bradley knows it, and when he lowers down and starts sucking on Colin's cock again, he winks up at him and _hums_.

Colin's head falls back, his whole body shivering from the little tremors that spread up his body, the wet vibration around his cock making him almost dizzy with how good it feels. His hands start grasping around, needing to hold onto something, preferably Bradley to warn him he's _really_ close, when one of Bradley's hands slides under him to his ass and he pushes in the tip of his finger.

Colin shouts, and tugs at Bradley's hair, tugs so hard, in fact, that he's worried Bradley might go bald after this, and tries to get Bradley's head away, he does, he promises - but Bradley won't budge and it's too late now because Colin is already coming. He's coming down Bradley's throat, he can feel him swallowing down around him and Colin curses, aloud, the combination of Bradley's mouth and the finger still inside him, unmoving, too much for him _and_ his sanity.

 

Next time Colin opens his eyes - and it was probably only a minute or so but he needed those few moments _badly_ , just to compose himself somewhat - Bradley is climbing his way up to him, and Colin grins, stupidly, blissed out from having his soul sucked through his cock mere moments ago, as Bradley bends down and kisses him.

Colin lets out a surprised sound, so many different tastes mixing in their mouths, not expecting Bradley to _kiss_ him after sucking him off, but Bradley thinks nothing of it, apparently, because he's licking into Colin's mouth excitedly, and Colin suddenly jumps because _hey_ , Bradley's finger is still up his ass and Colin's _kinda_ too sensitive for that right now, thank you very much. After he moves away with a groan and Bradley repositions himself, Colin realizes, however, that Bradley is still hard as a rock against his thigh. He's keeping himself up, slightly above Colin and leaning on his forearms, and Colin sees, content, that he has no obstacles on the way to his target.

While Bradley keeps kissing him, eagerly and quite demandingly, although Colin really doesn't mind one bit because kissing Bradley is kind of insane, so he naturally _needs_ to participate in it, Colin reaches down between them and takes Bradley in his hand.

Bradley moans into his mouth in delight, clearly in favour of this development and wiggles his hips to thrust into Colin's grip. Bradley's breathing soon becomes too laboured for them to keep kissing, so Colin watches in awe at all the muscles in Bradley's body rippling; minute, barely-noticeable quivers running through his limbs and he stares, his mouth nearly watering at the sight, at Bradley's cock in his fist, hard and slick with precome as he strokes him off.

 

Bradley's climax almost takes him by surprise - there are no shouts, but that's because there aren't any impromptu fingering ambushes either, he supposes - his shaking becomes stronger, and he moans a string of words, made out of Colin's name into his neck. His hips stutter and he presses his mouth hard to Colin's as he spills, and then settles down with a long, content sigh.

"Bradley?"

"What?"

"Where's your other sock?"

 

*****

 

A little while later they wake up after a power nap and have to do a series of _rock-paper-scissors_ games to decide who's going to get - at least partially - dressed to get rid of the socks and the condom, because neither of them really wants to move from their cocoon of clothes and blankets and limbs, so tangled up they'd need a saw to get separated.

Also, the deal was to go and open the trunk of the car because _this place reeks of sex_ and _that's because we did it twice in like 10 hours, genius_ and _Colin I'm your guest, you should go_ , and, probably Bradley's favourite one that had him snorting and capitulating in the end, _Bradley, I let you fuck me in the ass so you should at least have the courtesy to go and open the bloody trunk while I rest my sore bottom, and you didn't even finish that poem for me._

Colin watched, impressed, how Bradley got dressed, actually disposed of all the crap _and_ opened the trunk and front doors for some fresh air all in a matter of minutes, and wondered how the fuck did his last hissy fit work to convince Bradley to go and do everything despite him winning with scissors over Colin's paper. He felt slightly guilty - though he didn't know why because Bradley was laughing and was making silly faces at Colin from the other side of the window - so he pulled on some clothes too anyway.

 

They had a five minute stroll on the beach that actually consisted of a two minute-walk and a three minute make-out on the bench, before Bradley decided they should clearly kiss some more, but _in the car, where your pigeons can't stare at me like I'm despoiling their daddy or something, Colin._

So they did.

When the time came for Bradley to leave, Colin wasn't as sad as he expected himself to be. He figured this had nothing to do with him, though, and everything to do with Bradley - Bradley kept pulling him close and whispered to him, or kissed him or told him more about Natalie and Stephanie, and his plans for them leaving, and it all made Colin slightly unfocused and dizzy, this whole unspeakable thing of feeling _wanted_ and, dare he dreamed it, loved. They both grinned at each other, no words needed when Bradley pulled his sneakers on his bare feet and tied the laces.

 

"I really have to go now," he said with regret loud and evident in his voice as he nudged Colin in his side with an elbow.

"I know, Bradley. It's _fine_."

"You'll be here, yeah?"

"Me and my kids pigeons, yes."

"I swear they're ogling me, Colin."

"Just bring them some crumbs and they'll love you. Don't you know anything?"

They smirk at each other again, both at a loss for words after a night like that, and then Bradley nearly topples them over because he throws himself at Colin once more and kisses him with a loud smack. Colin's happy for his car behind him to keep them up as he laughs, feeling lighter than he had in a really long time, and waves at Bradley, who's finally let him go and is walking away backwards now.

 

Before he gets too far away, though, Bradley puts his hands around his mouth and shouts,

"I'll be back tonight, I _promise_!"

Colin can't even prevent himself from grinning widely, and the next thing he does he supposes is all Bradley's fault too, because there is no way in _hell_ he'd ever do it otherwise, it's _that_ stupidly corny, but there you have it - he kisses his palm and throws the air-kiss at Bradley.

 

There. You're allowed to do something brilliantly stupid once in a while if you're in love, right?

When Bradley pretends he caught the kiss and presses it to his heart, Colin nearly has a heart attack right then and there, but then Bradley trips and nearly breaks his neck and this _thankfully_ salvages the situation. Colin is still laughing, doubled in half when Bradley sticks his tongue at him and rounds the corner red-faced.

 

*****

 

Colin feels a bit drunk. He stands by his car and stares at a tiny piece of paint chipping off, and wonders how that actaully happens. As far as he knows it doesn't come off like that, unless you bang your car or scrape it along something, like a wall or another car, or if you scrape something _else_ against it, like keys.

And then he realizes he's dwelling on things he absolutely doesn't care about one bit, and that debating with himself about the longevity of the car paint is the first step into madness, and decides he's _not_ well.

 

He needs to sit down, right. Car paint? _Really_ , Colin?

 

He stumbles back to his bench and - _ow_. Oops. Having a sore bottom is such a rare occurrence in Colin's life that he just forgets what it feels like if you sit down carelessly. He wishes he wouldn't, though, because seriously - _fucking_ _ow_. He wonders how in hell was he going to get anywhere today like he planned; and Colin planned a whole _lot_ of things, see. First, he'd go to the swimming pool and have a shower there. Smelling like Bradley was great, really, it made Colin giggly and excited, but then again he also smelled of _other_ activities, and if Bradley's really coming back tonight -  
It might be best if Colin scrubs himself clean in case Bradley wants a reprise of what happened last night. Colin himself sure as hell wouldn't mind.

So a quick trip to the pool, yeah. And then maybe a stop by the shopping centre to get something cheap but hearty to eat. Colin needs to be in shape now, you know? How else is he going to keep up with Bradley's stamina if he's all underfed and weak, and Bradley's some sex-crazed demon on a mission to hump his soul out. Or something. Colin hasn't thought that bit through yet.

He was also going to clean up a little - guests deserve to come to a nice home, right? There might not be much to clean, but Colin planned to air out the car completely, make it as comfy as possible, and make sure the pigeons don't crap all over the place like they sometimes do if Colin doesn't have any crumbs for them. Little fuckers. He'll get them some crumbs today, seriously. Just in case.

 

He was _going_ to do all that, yes. And he still might go find something to eat - something that leaves _crumbs_ \- but apart from that, Colin's not too sure he can do the rest. He's not as agile as he usually is, the night-time activities finally showing the consequences. The swimming centre feels awfully far, all of a sudden, and Colin even considers - very briefly - having a wash in the ocean. Maybe Bradley would find sea water and algae scent alluring, who knows, but when Colin's tested the water (with his _foot_ because there is no way he can bend down and not look and sound ridiculous) it took all of 0.4 seconds to decide it's way too cold.

 

So he limps back to the car and wraps himself in a thin, scratchy blanket. He's tired, and maybe a quick nap is all he needs before he goes about his business.

 

*****

 

Colin wakes up to banging on his windows, and for a short moment it awfully feels like a strange kind of déjà-vu. But then his brain puts into second gear and he _remembers_ , he remembers everything that's happened the night before, and he scrambles out of his car before his eyes and other senses even keep up with the whole waking up thing. Fuck sight if _Bradley_ is already here.

The only problem is, that it's _not_ Bradley. It's too soon, much too soon for him to be back yet, and Colin realizes this through a fog of sleepiness as he gets out and is immediately pushed back against the car. His back hits the closed driver's door hard, and Colin yelps at the contact.

 

It's odd how a human mind clears up in an instant if some great upheaval happens. Colin would probably stay sleepy and lazy for hours after waking up, happy and content and making slow plans of running errands, but now he's dead awake, and alert, and _scared_. If he got lucky last night that one of the two people who know where his car is parked, visited him and that it was Bradley, he's ran out of it today.

Before him is one of the dealers, one that Colin used to get his stuff from, and he doesn't look happy. From the corner of his eye Colin also notices he hasn't come alone. _Shit_.

 

"Hello, Colin."

"Uh, hi."

 

The bloke's voice is dripping sweetness, which means trouble, and Colin knows he's cornered. There's two of them and he isn't exactly an athlete, never mind the crazy sex position from last night, so he braces himself and hopes for the best. It's all he can do, really, because he doesn't think his mouth is going to get him out of it this time.

"Remember last time we met?"

"How could I forget?"

"Then you must also remember that you promised me something."

"I did?"

Crap. Colin wants to stick his foot in his mouth for being a smartass, but he doesn't think this was the last of his slips, so he just swallows and tries to ignore the dangerous glint in the drug dealer's eyes.

"Yes, you did."

"Uh."

"Do you want us to remind you, what you promised?"

"No, no. I remember."

"You said you'll pay."

"Yeah."

"The difference in price you were short for."

"I know."

"And you said you'd pay back in the fall."

 

The other guy is circling the car this whole time, but Colin doesn't know much else about him, and can't really observe properly because all he _can_ focus on is the guy in front of him.

 

"I did."

"Do you know what season it is now, Colin?"

" _Uhm_. Fall?"

He's greeted with a toothy smile that doesn't hold any happiness at all, and it makes shivers run down his spine in the most chilling way possible.

"That's right, Colin. _Fall_."

 

He swallows and looks on helplessly for a moment. Double crap. He didn't forget he owed money, he really didn't, but he got the stuff sometime during the summer, and the whole _loose deadline_ thing felt so far away that Colin actually thought he might be able to have the rest of the money by then. He wonders if he didn't even do this on purpose, remembering how he was particularly down that day, feeling low and uninterested in pretty much everything - even breathing was a chore - and god knows if Colin planned to still be around then, or has maybe welcomed the thought of money extortion that would possibly end his meaningless existence.

Now, this kind of thinking makes him shudder.

 

"Where's the money, kid?"

"Uh. I have _some_ , but I don't have enough."

"Hey, did you hear that? He doesn't have _enough_."

 

His dealer is talking to the other bloke now, and Colin's gaze stops on him too. He's huge, _figures_ , but it's not that that makes something heavy drop in Colin's stomach and fills him up with dread. It’s the fact that the guy is holding a bat and Colin wonders briefly, humourlessly, just how closely acquainted he'll get with it in the next few minutes. He still needs to try, though.

"Is it possible to get another month?" Colin supposes he'll just beg on all possible corners, his dignity be damned, and maybe sell some of his shit on the flea market, and he'll cut down his food and warm drinks in half, right, he can do it, he can, and people will be in their Christmas spirit soon which means they'll be more generous, and maybe, just maybe Colin can pull this off -

 

"Yeah, Colin? See I _could_ give you another month, but here's the problem. I don't _want_ to."

 

As his last words leave his mouth, he nods at someone behind Colin's left shoulder, and the next thing he hears is a loud crash.

And glass breaking.

 

 _No_.

 

He turns around swiftly and watches in horror how the last shards from one of the back windows detach from the frame and collapse to the ground. The gorilla guy grins at him menacingly, and lifts his bat back up as he turns to another window.

" _No_!"

Colin has no idea where his strength is coming from, and maybe it's also the element of surprise that's playing to his advantage, but he manages to push his dealer away and get around the car in a second, and jump at the other guy.

He's just a skinny little fuck, he knows, but oh god not the car, not his home, he's dead without it and he knows Bradley and him talked about going away, but Bradley didn't really specify the date, and who knows, maybe he meant to spend his last holidays at home with his father and then leave during spring break, or something, but _fuck_ , Colin _needs_ his car if he wants to make it through the winter.

He can hear the other two shouting, but he's not hearing well, there's something buzzing in his ears and he wonders if it's the adrenaline or just the dread of what's going on - either way, it doesn't matter what they're saying because Colin can't overpower the big bloke, even if he is pushing him away from his car with everything he has. There's two of them, and the mathematics of what one shabby boy against two hunky men really means, show up beautifully.

Colin's pried off of the guy with the bat and pushed away so forcibly he stagers and collapses to the ground. This isn't good, he can't be on a lower level, he knows this isn't good and tries to get up, as something hits him in the face.

He falls back and clutches at his head, his left cheek throbbing with pain and something warm seeping through his fingers down from his brow. _Blood_. Colin feels dazed and tries to sit up, as he hears another window of his car being smashed to bits. No no _no, leave it alone_ is on rotation in his head, and maybe he's saying it aloud too, he doesn't know, and crawls to the pair of legs he spots on his peripheral vision. He swats at the guy, which of the two it is he can't tell, and clutches at the closer ankle he can actually reach.

This proves to be a mistake as the guy kicks his leg free and then proceeds to kick at Colin as well. Colin stumbles back again, pulling himself back with his arms, but he's slow and unfocused, and the legs are so close, _so close_ , and then they're kicking him - at his chest and legs and back, and when Colin bends in half instinctively to protect himself he realizes there's too many hits at too many places on his body to belong to just one person.

He's being kicked by both of them, and as one of them pulls him back and slightly up, the other one kicks him hard in his exposed stomach.

Colin roars in pain and clutches at his ribs, somehow managing to embrace the middle of his body with his hands and folds in on the ground again. This sadly leaves his head exposed and it doesn't go unnoticed by his attackers, as he receives another blow to the head, conveniently right where he was already hit earlier.

He sobs out, conflicted in so much physical pain he's never felt before, his father's hits like pats in his memory in comparison to this, and he breaths out _Bradley_ , because it's suddenly all he can think of, despite the sounds of the bat going at his car again.

 

 _Bradley_.

 

"Who's Bradley, Colin? Your boyfriend?"

Colin quivers and shakes his head because _no_ , no they can't know about _Bradley_ , he needs to keep quiet, and he braces himself for more punches, which strangely don't come anymore.

"Alright, the car's a wreck."

"Lovely. Hey Colin, maybe your little poof of a boyfriend can help you get more money."

 

His drug dealer crouches down next to him.

 

"Maybe you two can sell your asses for money together."

 

Colin whimpers in pain and anger, surprising _anger_ lifting up inside him at them talking about Bradley like that, just like he went livid when they started bashing his car, and spits blood at the ground in front of the dealer.

"Still rebellious, eh? Well you have your month, although good luck surviving it."

As he straightens up he kicks at Colin again, hitting his forearm this time, and then all Colin can hear is the sound of their retreating footsteps as he shakes on the cold, rough ground.

 

*****

 

He doesn't know how long he's been lying on the ground. He has no recollection of time, and the clouds in the sky tell him nothing of how late it may or may not be - the afternoon has been exceptionally gloomy, a perfect contrast to a wonderful, sunlit morning and even if Colin _could_ read time from the sky, he just isn't capable of doing so.

He strays in and out of consciousness and has no idea how long he's actually gone when he passes out, or dozes out, who knows, again. He's cold, and sore, and there's a steady pulse drumming away on his left cheek, giving Colin a spectacular headache. During one of his more sane moments, Colin wonders if he should move - but then he remembers there's nowhere _to_ move, his car bashed in completely, so he stays on the unfriendly asphalt, and can even feel the shards of the car's broken windows underneath him. He groans when he tries to shift, something hurting too much in his sides, so he just leans his head on the ground again and waits for the next cover of darkness behind his eyelids.

 

Next time he wakes up, it's to the sound of footsteps and frantic, desperate calls of his own name. He looks up, blinded by the streetlamp - oh, so it's _night_ time now or at least evening - and shivers at the thought of his tormentors coming back. But then the figure running towards him gets a more distinctive shape, and Colin blinks in relief.

 _Bradley_.

He's so glad to see him it nearly makes him faint again, and before Bradley even reaches him Colin tries to lift his head to sit up and greet him properly, like he thinks he should regardless of everything. He's just _so_ glad. For a moment there he actually doubted he'll ever see Bradley again.

 

"Bradley."

 

Bradley is by his side, then, throwing himself on the ground next to him and taking Colin's face gently in his hands.

" _Colin_."

"Mhh."

"Colin oh my _god_ , what _happened_?"

"Bradley."

"Fuck, _look_ at you- Can you sit up, Colin? How many fingers am I holding up? Are you in pain? No don't answer that, you _obviously_ are, what am I even _saying_. Oh Colin, shit, your _car_ \- "

 

Colin lifts his hand up and pokes Bradley in the cheek.

Bradley stops his overflow of words and looks down, his eyes all over the place, all over _Colin_ , and wide in terror.

"Who did this to you?"

"Drug dealers."

"But you _stopped_?"

"I did, but I owed money from before."

" _Shit_ , Colin."

 

Bradley lets go of his face then, and makes sure Colin's head won't just fall back down on the ground if he does so. His hands start running over Colin's limbs, firm but gentle, and he inspects for injuries.

"Colin? Is anything particularly sore?"

"My ribs."

"Shit."

"They kicked me in the ribs- "

"Oh _god_."

 

Bradley breathes heavily in his little freak-out, and takes a few deep, slow breaths to steady himself. When he looks slightly _less_ green, he starts prodding carefully at Colin's skin on his side, his hand slipping under all the shirts to not move Colin too much. After a couple of minutes he shakes his head, looking lost and overcome, and for some weird reason, probably because of the punches in the head, Colin remembers the Care Bears lighthouse.

"I don't think your ribs are broken, but I can't really tell like this. Can you sit up? Or better - _stand_ up, because we need to get away?"

 

Colin grabs at an offered hand and is pulled up with a wince. He feels sore all over, so it's hard to tell, although a place on the left side of his ribcage _is_ the most tender spot of them all. Bradley supports him, watchful of Colin's slow moving, as they make a few tentative steps.

"Is it making your breathing more difficult?"

"Not really, no? I don't think so. It just hurts like a motherfucker."

"Alright, I'll call a cab, we just need to move to some more known location so I can summon it there."

"Bradley?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

"My place."

Your home?"

"Yes."

"But, your father -"

"He's out of town for three days, I was going to invite you over for this time anyway."

"Oh."

 

Colin lets himself lean on Bradley a little, and sag, because suddenly it feels like he might not just die in a ditch. Bradley was here, was he not? And Bradley made him better, always.

He's clutching at him now, still running his eyes over Colin as if he expects Colin to faint any moment now, when he suddenly looks over at Colin's car again.

"Colin."

"Yes?"

"Anything yours in there we could take with us?"

"Just some clothes, really."

"Okay. Do you have a travel bag, or a bag, or something?"

"I do, it's in the front passenger's door."

 

Bradley walks him to the bench then and sits him down, and then jogs back to the car where he packs up everything that doesn't look ruined. Colin is watching him, tired and hurt and still not sure if dying wasn't the easier option, but when Bradley packs his special-shaped stones in the bag as well, Colin feels a lurch of something overwhelming passing through him.

Right. Dying might seem easier, but he wants to live. So he can be with Bradley.

 

*****

 

 

The first room Colin gets acquainted with in Bradley's home is the downstairs kitchen. Colin wonders if Bradley didn't really aim for something more comfy, like the living room, or maybe his bedroom, and missed, when he spots a reflection of himself in one of the pans hanging over the sink.

 _Jesus_. He knew there was blood, but he didn't expect himself to have his face _bathed_ in it. No wonder the taxi driver gave him odd looks, but Colin was just too out of it, trying to find the most comfortable position while leaning heavily on Bradley.

Bradley steps to him with a wet cloth and starts dabbing at his cheeks, but when Colin winces in pain Bradley just deflates, clearly shaken and barely holding himself up, and just sags in the nearby kitchen stool. Colin takes the cloth and starts cleaning up - he doesn't need a mirror or guidance, he knows his whole face is a mess, so really, he has to scrub the blood away from  everywhere - while he watches Bradley intently.

He's holding his head, looking down, while minor quivers shake his whole body. The adrenaline must be wearing off because Bradley's worse than he was earlier, even worse than those first few moments when he found Colin, and Colin doesn't really know what to do or say to make him better. Stupid is his usual go-to plan a, so he tries out that one first just in case it's the right choice.

 

"How do I look?"

 

He winks at Bradley and winces again as he tries to smile. His cheek will be so swollen and bruised tomorrow it's not even funny, not even to _Colin_.

It's difficult to miss the agony in Bradley's stare as he takes Colin in and does a full body scan - probably his 36th one in the past half an hour. Colin wants to say he's fine, but he doesn't really know that, and knows he'd probably be just the same if it was Bradley who just got beaten up. So he waits in silence as Bradley lets out a long, pained exhale and looks Colin in the eye.

"We need to get away."

"What, like now?"

"No, not right now, you idiot. We still need to check your ribs - no don't shuck your clothes here, you're having a shower upstairs in my bathroom - and then you need to get some proper sleep in a proper bed."

"And then?"

"And then we leave."

"Bradley."

"No, the timing's perfect, actually. As perfect as it could be, because my father won't return for another two days, so I don't have to have a fight with him and leave in a hissy, teenage-like fit. We can pack in peace, and I'll let my sisters know it's all happening a tad faster than expected."

"How long did you plan to still stay here, Bradley?"

"It really doesn't matter, because there's nothing keeping me here."

"Your uni?"

"I'm doing open uni, I can do it from anywhere."

"Your dad?"

"Leave that to me, Colin. All I care about right now is keeping you in until we leave so no one can find you again."

 

Colin doesn't know what to say to that as Bradley watches him sadly, his face filled with worries - and it pains Colin to know that all of those worries are there because of him. And _for_ him. He reaches out and slides a hand up and down Bradley's arm reassuringly.

"Come on. Let's go feel up my ribs in your bathroom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (damn it, just realized i made a poetry joke months before that merlin ep las weekend xD it's not stealing ideas, i swear, guys, i wrote mine back in June :D)


	10. i wrote them down to save your sad eyes

 

The first hit of hot water was like life itself. Or - no, that spot belongs to Bradley's kisses, actually, but the shower he was in right now was _definitely_ close behind, because holy hell this was _nice._

It's been ages since he took a proper shower, and he supposes those at the swimming pool should count too because they did the job just fine, but _this_ here was just something else. He was in Bradley's personal bathroom, the bloody thing actually _adjoining_ his bedroom, and Colin stood there for a moment, confused and taking it all in. Bradley went back downstairs, making tea or whatever but it was fine, honestly, because Colin felt just fine on his own.

Bradley helped him strip his clothes, the worry in his eyes still present. Colin supposes he shouldn't actually demean the emotion he saw like that, because it wasn't just mere worry, but he's afraid to analyze it and dissect it into such detail. He's used to seeing Bradley proud, and happy, and even when Bradley feels lost he still oozes that strength, the privilege and the certainty of someone who knows what he's doing. But this whole evening, ever since he came back to Colin's car and found Colin, Bradley's eyes had been delirious, darting all over the place as if he can't calm down, and Colin saw _fear_ , of all things. There was genuine fear in Bradley's eyes, and when he inspected Colin's wounds, the bruises, his hands so gentle over Colin's tender flesh, Bradley looked tormented as if _he_ was the one who was beaten up. The anguish on his face broke Colin's heart and he kept swallowing down the tiny sobs that threatened to come up. Maybe it was time for _him_ to be the strong, confident one, he thought as he couldn't forget Bradley's sigh of relief when they concluded that none of the ribs were broken. Which was a miracle in itself, really, because Colin ached all over as if he was hit by something bigger than just fists and feet, something like a truck, or a _plane_ , but Bradley apparently knew what he was doing and Colin trusted him.

He didn't want to be in the shower for too long, not wanting to make Bradley even more worried, but he was finally relaxing, not being fearful of who else is going to come and claim money that Colin couldn't pay up, or harm him. He felt safe, and the hot water was doing a world of good to him. He found Bradley's bottles of body wash and had a scrub, and for one short, thrilling moment he imagined he was fine and that Bradley was there with him, but he abandoned the delicious thoughts of pressing a naked Bradley into the cold tiles of the wall as he stretched a little bit too much, wincing as the pain in his sides shot through him. _Right_. Maybe next time.

But the fact of the matter was that Bradley did leave him up here alone, and that act alone spoke volumes of trust - trust he knew he must have earned and that Bradley was a bit like him in this department, not letting people so close so fast _often_. Colin never gave him any reason to think of him as a thief, true, but homeless people didn't have much, and Colin was pretty sure there are some out there who would take advantage of the situation.

Bradley _knows_ Colin wouldn't, though, and it makes Colin ridiculously content that he can be just himself around him. He'd _never_ take anything. And not just for the fact that the only thing in this house that had any value to Colin was _Bradley_ himself. Colin never found happiness in material things and he knew, with mathematical certainty of a genius, that there would be no thinking what to save if the house was on fire. He has a pretty big hunch Bradley would grab him in return and run, too, if the roles were reversed.

 

When Colin finally made it downstairs to the kitchen, wearing an old shirt of Bradley's and his own jogging bottoms they managed to salvage from his car, Bradley was nowhere to be seen. Colin found two tea mugs on the counter and grinned like mad when he realized there was a post-it note next to them, addressed to him.

_Colin_

_If you're here and I'm not - I'll be right back, just went to the laundry room to get my PJs._

_Also, you can have whichever tea. I know you'd take mine so I made them both the same :P_

_;) ♥_

 

 

What a _dork_. Colin stared at the smiley faces and bit his lip to prevent himself from squealing, because _that_ would be just insane. Even for him. The longer he stared at the little heart, though, the harder it was to not just grin and grin and seek out Bradley and squeeze all the organs out of him, promising him the world and the moon, and maybe some of the neighbouring galaxies too, if he wanted them.

 

"Admiring my handy work?"

"Don't quit your day job, love."

 

Ah. See what happens when his brain is too full of Bradley? He aims for sass and ends up blushing and fumbling instead, blurting out things that make other people uncomfortable.

Only that Bradley didn't look awkward at all, not as much as _coy_ , really, and what's up with that?

Colin doesn't have time to over think it, though, because Bradley walks up straight to him and kisses him gently.

 

"Bradley."

"Mmm?"

"Could you put a shirt on?"

 

Colin doesn't mean it quite like it sounds, and Bradley must know because he laughs, a loud and merry sound echoing around the kitchen and it makes Colin happier than little else could at that moment.  Bradley finally sounds relaxed again, composed but cheerful and it's this, more than anything else that puts Colin himself back at ease. He's safe here, he knows he is, and while the hits he took do hurt, Colin is still riding the high of having Bradley back. He suspects he'd be much, much worse if this all happened a few days ago when he felt forsaken and deserted and didn't count on seeing Bradley ever again.

Bradley kisses him again, lightly, and murmurs against his lips.

"You afraid you won't be able to hold yourself back and you'll ravish me in my sleep?"

"Oh trust me, you wouldn't stay _asleep_."

"Don't make me dare you, Colin."

"I'd take you up on it any time, but- "

"You're really sore, I know."

"Yeah. Didn't stop me from imagining you in the shower with me, though."

 

Bradley sighs and envelops Colin completely.

"Hold onto that thought because we're trying it out as soon as you're better."

"That might be impossible."

"Why?"

"We're leaving, right?"

"Yes?"

"Bradley I don't think anybody else has a shower as big as yours."

Bradley snorts into his ear. "Size jokes already, Colin?"

"You know what they say about people and their bathrooms."

"Don't you mean people and their _cars_?"

"You don't _have_ a car, Bradley."

 

He laughs, again, and grins at Colin before he takes a sip of his tea. "Neither do you," he adds lightly, playfully, but then his face falls. "Oh crap."

Colin nods, to him or maybe to himself, he doesn't know because he feels oddly disconnected, and grips the edge of the counter.

 

His _car_.

 

There was just too much going on before, but now that the subject was brought up -

Colin knows Bradley didn't mean to rub it in or mock him or any of the sorts. It just slipped and he has a feeling Bradley would actually like to hit himself in the face with something right now, something big like the fridge or the kitchen table, but is afraid to move to not set Colin off. Colin wants to reach out to him, to pull him in and tell him it's okay, that Colin didn't resent the remark because he knows Bradley didn't mean anything bad by it, but he can't really move.

He feels hollow, and it's hard to breathe and he needs to close his eyes because _fuck_ , his car, his brilliant little yellow car, his play-Tardis, his home and shelter and everything that Colin was attached to in the past year, his epitome of all good is _gone_ and Colin _can't_ , he feels he's going to be sick. Flashes of the afternoon before ring in his ears, the windows crashing and the hammering and bashing of everything they could crack under the bat, and Colin suddenly feels like it was him all over again, him under the hits of fists and kicks because the car _was_ him, and he folds in on himself with a wail.

 

He can hear Bradley in the background, but it's muffled, and distant, and he sobs into his own hands and shrugs Bradley off when he tries to pry his hands away from his face.

 

"Colin, _Colin_ please let me- "

" _No_."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna get it all over your shirt."

"You're gonna get _what_ on my shirt, Colin?"

"Tears."

He hears Bradley sigh, and it sounds so sad that it's _this_ that makes Colin remove his hands and look up. They're both sitting on the floor although now that Colin's not hiding anymore, Bradley crawls into his space and embraces him.

"Colin, my god, just breathe, I don't give a fuck what you get on my shirt."

"I don't want to ruin it, like I ruin _everything_ -"

"No, Colin, _no_."

"Sure I do, I fuck up everything, first _my_ family, and then yours, and then my poor, poor lovely car that never did anything bad to anyone and now I'm going to do it to your _shirt_ \- "

" _Colin._ "

 

Colin, feeling so out of it all and so unworthy of being here right now, stops murmuring his frantic, feverish soliloquy because his face is pressed into Bradley's neck, and Bradley's neck is doing some odd constricting, the kind that comes from sobbing and gasping for air and _shit_ Colin just holds on tighter because you _see_? He made Bradley cry now, the one person that for some demented reason actually likes him and wants him and is holding him, and all Colin can do in return is make him cry?

Bradley kisses the top of his head and chokes out a faint _Colin,_ and it breaks Colin's heart a little bit, seeing and feeling for himself how broken they both are, burdened with the past and terrible events they found themselves in, but now also more vulnerable than ever before because they confided in one another, opened up and trusted and put hope and dreams and plans in each other and it's all more than a little bit scary. Colin needs to believe, though, that they're strong enough because he honestly doesn't think he could handle watching Bradley walk away again. It's not something he could bear and even thinking about it makes his clutch on Bradley's arm stiffer, his whole body tense.

 

"Bradley I'm _sorry_."

"What? _Why_?"

" _This_ , for dragging you into this. _Shit_ , Bradley, what if they came when _you_ were there too? They'd hurt you as well and I wouldn't be able to bloody forgive myself- "

"Colin shut _up_ , I can take care of myself, I can, I'm pretty well built and I wish I _was_ there- I was so scared, so bloody scared, seeing you there on the ground and the blood, _your_ blood, I thought you were dead, but then you moved, oh god Colin you _moved_ and it was the best thing I've ever seen."

Bradley moves and rests their foreheads together, their noses brushing.

"Colin you _idiot_ , why didn't you tell me you owed money?"

"I'd never ask money from you, Bradley."

"But if you wouldn't take money at least I could get you away sooner and then none of this would have happened."

"I know. I know I could but Bradley, you came _back_ to me last night and I wasn't able to think of anything else. I probably couldn't write down my own name if you asked me, let alone tell you things like that."

 

Colin feels his cheeks heating up and bites his lip because every time he says something personal he has a feeling he just let out the most pathetic wedding vow in the world, professing his undying love like in some soap opera and waits for Bradley to gag in his face. But Bradley, as always, does something terribly sweet like nudging his nose in some sort of imitation of an Eskimo kiss, like he's doing it right now, and then Colin's brain just waves a white flag all over again.

They're quiet when Bradley is leading them up to his bedroom and he pushes Colin over to his king-sized bed to rest. Colin watches Bradley walk around the room and pack, and he's determined not to fall asleep just yet because he wants to keep Bradley company, though he has a hunch he's fighting a long lost battle, his eyelids heavy and sinking lower and lower with each passing moment.

 

When Bradley is done shoving socks and underwear in Colin's half-empty bag, he pulls out his own suitcase and starts filling that one up too. From time to time he pauses with a shirt in his hands and looks over at Colin, probably assessing if it would fit him, and Colin, feeling like he should make at least _some_ kind of contribution, mostly just lifts his hand with an out-stretched thumb. He has no complaints whatsoever right up until Bradley waves at him with a button-down that is so obviously designer that Colin switches his thumb with his middle finger and grins when Bradley makes a face and sticks his tongue at him.

He's well on his way into dozing off when Bradley finally decides he's done - or at least Colin hopes he is, because they can't take half the house with them despite Bradley wanting to pack all the junk they definitely will _not_ need - and hops onto the bed next to Colin.

 

"You're lying down like a retard, Colin."

"I don't know how to use a bed properly anymore."

"No, you fell down in this exact position and are just too lazy to move."

"Touché."

 

Bradley snorts and drapes himself over Colin, careful not to press down on any of his tender spots.

 

"Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"Sell me to the ZOO?"

"I can only donate you, I think."

"You don't think you'd get any money for me?"

"There are enough handicapped animals in there."

"Oh, ha."

"The only place that _would_ pay good money for you, though - "

"Yes?"

"- would be the circus."

"Circus?"

"Yeah, a _talking_ sloth, imagine that. People from all over the world would come and see you."

"Would _you_ come to see me?"

Colin is on the brink of consciousness when he peers up at Bradley. Bradley scrunches up his face and tilts his head, as if wagering the options, and smiles softly down at Colin when he's apparently reached his decision.  "I'm not giving you to anyone, you muppet. As if I could be without you."

"You're _killing_ me," Colin murmurs, feeling like this doesn't need any elaboration because it's pretty obvious, right, who _wouldn't_ be half-dead if Bradley shoots cutesy lines at you, and before he surrenders his eyes to sleep, he takes one last look at him.

Bradley is running a hand through Colin's hair gently, lovingly, smiling at nothing in particular somewhere in the distance with a vacant expression, as he hums a tune of some lullaby Colin's sure he knew and loved as a kid.

 

Yep. That bastard is _killing_ him.

 

*****

 

_ 7/11/2011 _

 

Colin woke up feeling better, softer, and comfier than he had in - for over a year, actually. There was a dull ache in his side that reminded him he shouldn't _really_ feel so light and complacent and lazy, but honestly, he was warm all over and the sun cast interesting patterns on the quilt and Bradley - where _was_ Bradley?

He turned around briskly - and wished he hadn't, because _ow_ , fuck - and tried to disregard all the worry that rose up in him instantly. The past couple of days weren't exactly excitement - good or bad - free and the slight paranoia with Bradley not being there made something heavy drop in Colin's stomach.

When he looked fully over his shoulder, however, he realized he needn't worry, because Bradley, that sneaky fucker, was standing by the door and grinning at him, looking positively delectable in boxer-briefs and a grey tank and shower hair.

 

"Morning, sleeping beauty."

"Do I look that nice?"

 

Colin automatically reached for his left cheek, feeling the cut and the slight swell. There were bruises on his torso and arms as well and he supposed he must look _awful_ , actually.

 

"Nah, you're a fucking mess."

 

Colin snorted and felt his mouth stretch into an almost-painful grin, when Bradley crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly looking a lot more vulnerable in his seriousness.

 

"I'm so in love with you."

 

Colin swallowed hard. And then flopped back into the covers and laughed, happiness bubbling up inside him. Good lord, where did he _find_ this bloke? Just for the last declaration alone Colin decided he was going to give him a blow job each morning for a whole month.

"Oh _really._ "

 Wait what?

Bradley was smirking almost dangerously, stepping towards the bed and waggling his eyebrows.

 _Oops_.

Did he say that aloud?

He scooted over to the wall because Bradley was joining him in bed now, chucking the tank top, and Colin sighed because _god_ he doesn't think he'll _ever_ get enough of that magnificent piece of chest. He was staring, again, he knew he was but _fuck_ _that_ because Bradley was his now, really his and Colin decided that fact granted him a look whenever he wanted. Bradley leaned close and nosed his cheek, his _left_ one at that and murmured,

"I'm not opposed to the idea at _all_."

"You'll have to get me jaw pain relief."

 

Bradley snorted and kissed the cut gently.

"How are we supposed to bicker like two normal blokes about whose is bigger if we're both rooting for mine?"

"Of course I'm rooting for _yours_."

"Colin, the cock rooter."

"Colin, _Bradley's_ cock rooter."

"This could be a fun riddle."

"Why?"

"You'd have to guess how many cocks there are."

 

Colin lifted his hand and started counting on fingers.

"There's the cock in question, literally. Then the rooster who dropped an s somewhere. And we can't forget yours or mine, so that's _four_ -"

"Wrong."

"What?"

"You miscounted."

"How so?"

 

Bradley smirked in such a cutesy way Colin almost had to hit him with a pillow.

"There's yours and mine. _Only_ yours and mine."

And, _Jesus_. If Bradley isn't planning to stop with all these love declarations, Colin will have to do something drastic, like one of those blow jobs maybe, or shut him up some other way, because he seriously didn't think he could take much more.

"Bradley."

"And I know I said I don't mind, but you're hurt so I'm thinking maybe we could reverse the roles for the moment."

"What do _youoh_ \- "

 

Colin didn't have time to finish his question, actually, because Bradley apparently believed in practical work instead of theoretical discussion and promptly slid a hand down Colin's underwear. Colin didn't know if Bradley was surprised or not that he was fully hard already, and that he has been ever since he  woke up and saw Bradley looking at him, but decided if Bradley doesn't seem to mind, he won't dwell on it either. The stroking was slow, but Bradley's grip felt amazing and Colin arched towards him, his hands grasping for some skin to touch as well. Bradley, bless him, knew Colin wanted contact and leaned over to kiss him, but then stopped all together.

"Bradley wha- "

"Colin."

"Why'd you stop?"

"Colin, can we- are you well enough?"

"You want to?"

"I _do_ , please, I want _you_ to-"

" _Bradley_."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, _yes_ , but shit I don't think I can, my ribs -"

"Just stay as you are, this is _fine_ , here, let me just."

 

And then he was gone, rummaging through his nightstand and Colin needed to take a few deep breaths because _holy crap_ if Bradley is going to ride him through the mattress he was pretty sure he'll die, _fatally_ so, and he wanted to calm down a bit to make this last. _What_ a way to go, though.

Bradley turned back to him, with a condom and lubricant in his hands and red high on his cheeks.

Colin smirked.

"Man with the plan."

"I got these yesterday when I left."

"Please tell me you had some breakfast first or something."

"Nope, went straight to the drugstore."

"Bradley."

"And the lady there almost squealed when I told her what I wanted, so it's high time we escape, I think."

"But not before we fuck first."

"Oh no. _Priorities_ , Colin."

"Good. Had me worried for a second there."

 

Colin was pretty sure he had more smartassy stuff coming, but they died in his throat, or maybe even before that, they probably stopped forming in his brain all together because Bradley was pulling both of their underwear down and straddling him. _Bradley's_ sass, however, seemed to still be working, because he grinned down at him.

"I know it's not exactly _strawberry Vaseline_ -"

"Oh you ass."

" _My_ ass, yes."

 

And then he poured some lube onto Colin's fingers and led his hand behind and under himself.

 

Oh _fuck_. Colin's finger sank in, all the way to the second knuckle and he watched, in awe, how Bradley's face above him went slack, his mouth dropping open. He started to move the finger in and out, probably not slow enough but he knew his hands would shake otherwise, and besides, Bradley really didn't seem to mind at all, judging by the way he rolled his hips in time with Colin's minute thrusts. When he slid in a second finger, moving both around, Bradley seemed to know what he was searching for because he gasped _yes, yes-_ , and when Colin hit home, Bradley arched and moaned _deliciously_ , making Colin's cock twitch almost achingly - in anticipation, lust or just high hopes for what's to come.

Colin closed his eyes, he _had_ to, because everything he was feeling, and he was feeling so _much_ , threatened to overcome him. He was in bed, with _Bradley_ , and they were about to do something amazing - not strictly a new, unknown thing but the fact, however, that he was here, that _they_ were here, him and Bradley, with so much behind them and so much _before_ them, made Colin befuddled and dazed, and his other hand gripped Bradley's hip hard to ground himself.

He realized Bradley was talking to him.

 

"-lin? Are you okay?"

 

He opened his eyes to find Bradley looking at him in concern, stilling in his enticing roll of hips and limbs, watching, just watching and waiting for Colin to reassure him.

"Oh, Bradley."

"Colin?"

"I'm _more_ than okay, god, come here."

He pulled Bradley's hips higher and closer and lifted himself just enough to meet Bradley half-way for a kiss. He forgot, or maybe not actually forgot but somehow got used to the insane fact his fingers were up Bradley's ass, that he wiggled them in delight when Bradley started sucking on his lip - but _Bradley_ clearly hadn't, because he rocked forward in an erratic cant and a moan that travelled down Colin's throat in a fluttering wave.

"Did I hit something you like?"

Bradley moaned again in response, pushing his hips down and down, taking Colin's fingers in as far as they would go. On one of his drops, Colin added a third finger and wasn't exactly sure which of them gasped louder, Bradley, who didn't see it coming and arched beautifully, or himself because he literally felt such a private, intimate part of Bradley's stretching and that _he_ was the one doing it.

 

"Colin, the _condom_ -"

 

Colin was in a slight haze despite the fact he was untouched so far, and would pay no mind to Bradley if he didn't practically _growl_ the demand at him. He scrambled for the packet and tear it open with his teeth - one of his hands was doing something more important, obviously - and then, because naked Bradley and bossy Bradley and Bradley's _ass_ turned his brain effectively to mush, proceeded to roll the condom on Bradley's cock.

Bradley stopped moving and looked down in amusement.

 

"No, Colin."

"Huh?"

"Wrong cock."

" _Oh_."

 

He couldn't prevent himself from blushing just as Bradley couldn't prevent himself from throwing his head back and laughing out in delight, and then he bent down and kissed Colin loudly and forcefully on the mouth. Bradley scooted down and removed the condom with a faked sigh of annoyance, and then continued to put the _same_ condom on Colin's cock. Colin swallowed hard, again, wondering if Bradley's booked both train tickets yet because the way things were going, he was definitely going to die before the main event will even _start_ , or if he'll miraculously live until then, the dying part will undoubtedly happen mid-penetration and _really_ , maybe Bradley should only get one ticket and spend the money for the other one for Colin's _funeral_ -

Bradley slid his body down on Colin's cock and wiggled as he settled on top of him with a groan.

Colin's eyes rolled backwards and he collapsed, his back arching impossibly despite the bruises on his body that should clearly restrict his movements at least somewhat. Bradley was so _tight_ , jesus christ, and hot and felt so smooth, and moved so vigorously and rhythmically and Colin knew, he _knew_ now how Bradley planned to kill him.

 

"You're a mantis, aren't you?"

" _What_?"

"You're going to shag me senseless and then turn green and eat me alive, or maybe dead because I won't survive the mating -"

"Colin oh my _god_ if you're still able to babble your nonsense I'm _clearly_ not doing it right -"

 

Bradley lifted slowly then, and just when he was about to pull all the way up to slide off of Colin's cock, he slammed his body back down in one forceful thrust. Colin's mouth exploded in a string of curses, but at least he was no longer coherent, and when the fog in his head cleared a tiny bit he was slowly becoming aware of what all this was doing to Bradley and how _he_ was responding.

His chest was slick with sweat, an enticing drop running down his neck, a drop that Colin desperately wanted to chase with his tongue and then lick it up and look for some more. His hair, wet from the shower which dried up fast, was drenched again and sticking to Bradley's forehead on one side and straight up in the air on the other, where Colin's hand was earlier when they kissed. A faint red blush was spreading from Bradley's face down to his torso and one of Colin's hands came up of its own accord to touch and make sure if the red spread is as warm as he's imagining it would be.

It was.

Bradley gasped at the contact and one of his hands took Colin's and squeezed. Colin squeezed back and realized, something warm sizzling inside him at the display, that Bradley didn't let go.

His face was scrunched up beautifully, and Colin was pretty certain it's not pain or exertion but something close to bliss and indulgence, with his pink tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth.

Colin knows he's close, he's so close he can barely breathe because Bradley feels amazing, and the stuff Colin is feeling for this guy is something ridiculous and almost paralyzing, which only adds to his fire.

Bradley suddenly grins.

"Colin?"

"Yes?"

"Not to be a dick to your car because it's awesome- "

"But?"

"But my bed is incomparably better for this."

Colin licks his lips and assesses the situation - his long limbs are stretched with no problem, and Bradley is above him, unbent, and the covers under him are soft and there's really no fear of anyone walking by any moment, and decides that Bradley is once again right.

 

Bradley is riding him unrelentingly, with fast, long grinds that feel divine and Colin loses himself in the steady cadence of rolling hips, and hands squeezing hands, with their eyes meeting sometimes through the haze of all the thrill.

His other hand moves from Bradley's hip to his cock and starts stroking him in time with their thrusts. Bradley trembles, a full-body shake and draws breath in loudly.

" _Colin_."

"Bradley- "

"Yes?"

Colin's hand speeds up, and he starts, in that moment, albeit a little bit off key because there's no piano and also, erm, because his cock is up Bradley's ass so he can be forgiven, _right_ , to sing.

"Oh you know that, _ah_ -"

" _Colin_ -"

"all I can thiink of"

"Oh _god_ -"

"is _you_ -"

 

Bradley moans and comes all over Colin's chest, his body shuddering so intensely that Colin himself shakes and can barely hold on. He's the only one thrusting now and bringing Bradley through with one hand, and for one short, insane moment he wonders if he's going to develop muscles with a sex life like that, but then he feels Bradley's hands as Bradley reaches back and settles them on Colin's knees and continues moving, Colin's cock still hard inside him.

"Oh _fuck_ -"

"Shhh just let go-"

" _Bradley_ \- "

 

It doesn't take much at all, because Bradley's muscles are still convulsing around Colin and it's such an exquisite feel that Colin can't hold himself in check anymore. He grips Bradley's hips again, and watches in awe as one of Bradley's hands comes around and he rakes his nails down Colin's front through his chest hair and Bradley's own come, and that's pretty much the filthiest thing that's ever happened to him, so Colin wails, actually wails and comes in long, pulsating spasms.

He knows Bradley is taking care of things, though how his legs are even holding him up is beyond Colin because _fuck_ Bradley must have some serious leg muscle, right, and he valiantly tries to help by getting up, or at least out of his way or something, when Bradley chuckles and pushes him back down.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

"Erm- don't know, actually."

"Exactly. So lie down and shut up."

"I feel like I should at least clean your jizz off of me."

 

Bradley suddenly hovers over him and grins positively obscenely.

"Got _that_ covered too."

And then he bends down and licks all over Colin's chest.

 _Jesus_ fucking _Christ_.

" _Bradley_."

"Mmmm?"

"I, uhm."

" _Mmmm_."

"Round two?"

"Mhmm."

" _When_?"

Bradley lifts his head and licks his lips. "London."

" _London_?"

"London."

"Tickets?"

"Got them."

"Your sisters?"

"Expect us."

"And they- "

"Can't wait to meet you, actually."

 

Bradley is grinning now, fondly, happily, and a whole lot lazy as he snuggles down next to Colin.

 

"You told them about me?"

"Oh yes."

"What do they know?"

"Pretty much everything."

"Bradley."

"I started telling them about you almost as soon as we met."

"Wow. I had no idea."

"Now you do. Also, I think they want to adopt you, so you need to watch out."

 

Colin stares at Bradley, speechless and has half a mind to pinch himself. He's experiencing one of those moments where everything feels too good to be true and is scared of what bad stuff will happen next. But then again - maybe they won't. Because Bradley is with him, and they have tickets to get away and their suitcases are full of Bradley's clothes and unnecessary junk and _hope_ , and maybe everything is going to be fine.

"When's the train?"

"We need to leave in two hours."

"You going to get some more sleep?"

"Aren't you?"

"Nah."

"'kay."

 

Bradley was getting sleepy and cuddly and Colin's urge to beat him up with a pillow suddenly re-emerged in its full glory. He bent down and kissed his forehead instead, when Bradley yawned like a kitten.

"Kiss me."

"You taste of your jizz, Bradley."

"Colincolincolin-"

 

Colin cackles and kisses him fast before he could do something ridiculous like _propose_ to the guy.

"Okay. Now get some sleep and I'll wake you up in an hour, yeah?"

"Yeah, 'kay. Love you."

 

Next thing out of Bradley's mouth was a light snore but Colin sat still with saucer-like eyes for long minutes afterwards.

 

*****

 

By the time Colin stumbled down into the kitchen to get some water, he forgot why he went there in the first place. He stood next to the counter and grinned at it, thinking to himself what a nice counter it is, and then he grinned at the wall because that was nice too, and at himself and at nobody in particular, and then he went through to the living room and where he sat down in the plushest chair imaginable.

He grinned at that, too.

Most of the furniture would probably get the same kind of treatment, he admits, if it wasn't for the white envelope on the mantelpiece that piqued his interest. It was addressed to Bradley’s father, and Colin wasn't an idiot: he was pretty sure it was a letter from Bradley. He thought about leaving it, and not reading it, but then his curiosity got the best of him.

 

It read:

 

_Father,_

_I hope you find this as soon as you get home so that you don't worry about my whereabouts. Not that you ever do. Worry, I mean, not the get home bit. Though you kind of suck at that too._

_I, uhm. I don't know how to say this, especially to you. We're crap at this social exchange of father-son feelings, and I know that by now you're probably cringing at the use of my vocabulary._

_I am not going to lie to you, father. I know you're a smart man, so I'm pretty sure you know a letter from me to you means I'm saying something important, like a goodbye._

_And I am. Kind of, at least. And I am not going to keep it hidden where I'm going, in case you'd want to be in touch. You must know I'm leaving for a number of reasons, and though you're not fully to blame, you are one of those reasons. I am not doing this lightly, but I feel that it's time to make it on my own. With people who believe in me._

_And I found somebody who does, father. I want you to know that too. His name is Colin and he is an extraordinary person. I'd like to think you'd like him, but I honestly don't know, because I can think of so many reasons why you wouldn't - but none of them have got anything to do with him. I will, however, continue to hope that one day I'll have the chance to introduce him to you and that you'll see just how much he makes me happy._

_So I'm going away - we both are, together, actually. We're going to stay with Natalie and Stephanie for a while, and then hopefully get something of our own. You are always welcome, father (unless you're going to drop by the girls’ - in that case please let us know in advance because it's still their place and it's pretty much their saying how the visiting thing goes), I want you to know that._

_I feel that a letter is not personal enough to discuss reasons for my leaving - at least the ones that involve you - but if you ever want to talk about it, you know how to reach me._

_For now, I have nothing left to add. Best wishes, and maybe talk soon?_

_\- Bradley_

Colin read through three times (and five if we talk about the part that involves him) and then pressed the letter to his chest as if it was meant for him. The letter contained so much _Bradley_ , the boy that meant the world to him, that Colin nearly shed a tear, wishing Bradley wouldn't have to be in this situation at all. He could feel Bradley's - not regret, because if Colin detected the _slightest_ hint of regret, he'd rip his ticket and made him stay at home to try to wake his father up and make things work - pang of sadness, of nostalgia that shouldn't even be there, but that materializes when things with such finality like moving out and away happen. And there was almost tangible hope for the future, so much of it, really, that it made Colin warm from the inside out at how loving and forgiving Bradley actually was. He quickly scanned the room for a pen, and added:

 

_P.S. Uhm, hello. This is Colin, and don't be mad at Bradley for my little addendum because he doesn't know I'm writing this. I only wanted to add something that Bradley himself never would, and yet it is of vital importance for you to know. That is, if you don't know already, but I find that hard to believe. See, Bradley would never tell you that he's actually amazing. And generous. And kind-hearted._

_Okay, there's this thing where he gets snobby over clothes, but no one is perfect, right?_

_But honestly, all joking aside, Bradley is the most excitable, lovable person I've ever met. You have a wonderful son, and the last thing I want is for you to lose him in any way. Just like he said, you are always welcome and I'd love to meet you one day. Until then, I promise I will take good care of him._

_\- Colin_

 


	11. you bruise and break but that's okay

They dawdle at Bradley's home for as long as they can. Colin can sense they're getting nervous, Bradley even more so and Colin knows, he knows Bradley is worried and would actually dress Colin up and conceal him in every way possible, just to ensure that no one who could harm him recognizes him in the first place.

He supposes Bradley is right - if any of the dealers would spot Colin at the railway station, boarding the train or not, it'd be quite enough for them to want to claim the rest of the money in any way they could.

So they stay in, Bradley calling for their taxi in the last moment possible for them to not worry they're going to miss their ride. It's a war of nerves, really, and they sit in silence by the front door, Colin driving Bradley up the wall with constantly zipping and unzipping his travel bag, and Bradley checking his watch every two minutes. They hunch down in the car and they know this is exactly how guilty people act, they hide and avoid other people's eyes and fidget in their seat like there's an ant hill underneath, but they can't help it. So much is at stake here.

Bradley practically races to the right platform once they arrive, and Colin follows, all he can _do_ is follow because it's pretty clear to him by now that that's what he'll be doing for the rest of his days. It's dysfunctional, maybe, the pull he feels for Bradley; the pull he's in mere two months at that, but as much as it is unnerving, or intimidating, or unhealthy to others, it's what's keeping him sane and whole and he knows, he just knows it's a reciprocated bond. Bradley is quiet, subdued even as he stands stock still by one of the pillars, and Colin can tell it's taking a toll on him. Bradley doesn't have to tell him he's worried, the tension in his demeanour could be seen from the moon.

Colin wonders, not for the first time, if Bradley's slept at all during the night due to the dark shadows under his eyes and his general tiredness. He's probably stayed up and fussed over sleeping Colin, watching him, and _over_ him in some noble sacrifice of staying on guard despite being perfectly safe in his house. There's still fifteen minutes left and the train isn't there yet, so Colin drags Bradley inside an empty photo-booth and pulls him to his lap.

They stay there, in a sleepy embrace, until their train pulls into the station.

 

[ ](http://s275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Moxy_Kitkat/?action=view&current=station_by_eposicee-d5k64d0.png)

 

*****

 

It's not until they leave the city far behind that Bradley finally relaxes, although his new lenient state doesn't include releasing his hold on Colin. Colin wonders how much of Bradley's apprehension is about keeping _him_ safe and unseen, and how big a part is reserved for Bradley's own departure from home and from his father and everything else he knows.

And Colin doesn't want to appear as if this whole ordeal is nothing, or that he is unaffected by all this, or that he's taking it lightly. _God_ , no. He isn't, he _really_ isn't. It's still difficult to stay afflicted, though. He's leaving behind everything he knows, too, but he's also taking with him the only thing that actually means something, and this _thing_ is holding his hand while slumbering on Colin's shoulder, and while Colin doesn't know what future holds, it looks pretty bright right now - and it's not just because of the sun shining directly in his face.

He can't bring himself to close the dusty, thick curtains - for one, he'd wake Bradley up, and he'd rather scorch to death or combust with heat before moving him, because Bradley is finally asleep and peaceful, and two, the warmth of the sunshine feels _good_ , licking away the icy bits of worry, and bruises and pain, and the cold Colin's learned to live with.

Call him crazy, but he has a feeling he'll no longer have to worry about falling asleep alone, with his teeth clattering the national anthem as he folds into himself to preserve what little body heat he has.

 


	12. i know you by heart (epilogue)

Colin loves to wake up like this.

 

So, okay, for one - he's in a bed. _Obviously_ he loves that fact. He's pretty sure that anyone who's ever had to spend their nights on something else than a bed for an extended period of time, shares this sentiment.

Still, bed or no bed, he's pretty certain he has it better than most people because of one thing that _cannot_ be duplicated.

 

Bradley.

 

Colin rolls on his back and faces him, enjoying this rare moment of being the one who's awake first. It just hardly ever happens, because Colin - and he knows this and apologizes for it to _no one_ \- is a heavy sleeper, and loves to sleep in late, and Bradley, bless him, always lets him.

Oh, when he says _always_ -

sometimes Colin wakes up to steaming cups of tea or coffee and to Bradley reading a newspaper like the adorable snob he is, and Colin suspects he wakes up because Bradley is poking him, ninja-style, in the ribs every few minutes or so. He's pretty sure this is what happens because reading is a fairly _quiet_ activity, right, and when Colin awakes and looks up, Bradley wears an expression far too innocent for someone holding the Financial spread.

Other times, Colin wakes up in a warm cocoon of sheets and skin, almost _too_ warm for comfort, but still suspended in that tranquil, unruffled state between full consciousness and hazy, slow awareness that concentrates only on the heat, radiated by the unmoving limbs and the buzz that comes from the light snoring of the man enveloping him from behind.

Sometimes it's not even Bradley that causes it. There are mornings when one of them left the door slightly ajar the night before, and Colin wakes up to a face full of whiskers and loud purring.

 

His favourite mornings by far, though, are those when Colin opens his eyes to Bradley kissing him, and running his hands over him, mapping out his body as if he doesn't know every last bit of Colin's skin already. Colin stretches lazily, still drowsy from sleep but waking up fast; Bradley's touch does that to him as he presses him into the mattress and makes his skin tingle with caresses.

This morning, however, it's Colin who's up first, but he has no plans of waking Bradley up. He watches, captivated by the steady rise and fall of Bradley's body as he breathes deeply, still submerged in his sleep.

Colin kisses his shoulder and swallows down a chuckle, remembering how he woke Bradley up one time by rolling the covers down and biting his ass so hard his teeth marks didn't fade for over two weeks. Afterwards, Bradley planned revenge, but because Colin has a bit of a thing for Bradley's bites, Bradley declared him a party-pooper and got him back by buying him the newest iPhone.

Colin gave the monstrosity to Natalie, who promptly decided he is her favourite person in the whole wide world, much to Bradley's dismay – he huffed at the exchange and said it's no fun, having your sister _and_ your boyfriend plotting against you. Stephanie only shook her head and grinned at him indulgently.

 

*****

 

"Yo, Maggie, where are you? Come on, girl. Free drops of milk going once, going _twice_ -"

Colin waits for another moment and then puts the bottle of milk back in the fridge.

"- _and_ sold to the man in black underwear."

 

He stirs his tea and wonders for a moment where Gallifrey could be, when his gaze falls on the row of photographs on the kitchen shelf by the window. It's not the first time they caught his interest - quite the opposite, they're his favourite escape when he's in the kitchen alone; he eyes them every day when he looks out the window, or when he does the dishes - Colin smiles at the thought he actually _has_ dishes to do - or, like right now, when he sips his morning tea and likes to look at something that makes him feel good, something that reminds him this world is still a beautiful place. The photographs are something that his little, yellow car was to him mere three years ago, and Colin still feels a pang of sadness whenever he remembers it. But this, the photographs, are nevertheless better, because they contain memories, they depict events that really _happened_ , and it's a daily reminder for Colin that maybe happiness isn't only reachable in parallel universes, but is happening to him here and now as well.

Speaking of Gallifrey, she's in the first photo that his eyes fall on. It's actually a joined collage of three, and they were all picked and selected by Colin. The first one is of her as a kitten, sitting above the keys of his piano. Piano that _Bradley_ bought with his first wage and didn't tell Colin anything about - up until the evening that the huge instrument was delivered and Colin clapped in delight, and then cried and laughed (in that order, yes), and then proceeded to blow Bradley so hard he went cross-eyed on the piano chair above Colin. Good times _indeed_. Colin still can't quite believe Bradley did that, but he loves to play in the evenings, and Bradley loves to listen, and when Colin played him _Song for the road_ for their third anniversary last month, Bradley cried and held on until Gallifrey nearly clawed them both all the way to hell because her food bowl lacked its most vital component.

( _Most_ vital because apart from the food, other important residents of the pink bowl with little white fish - that was naturally purchased by Bradley -  were usually present as well, namely her favourite mouse toy, a button from Colin's coat, and Bradley's thumb ring. They often joked she was only half-cat, the other part of her bloodline belonging to that of a _magpie_.)

 

The middle photo made Colin in equal amounts cringe _and_ smile, and it's exactly for this reason that he chose to put it in the collage in the first place. He chuckles lightly when he takes in Bradley and himself, and how they appear _homeless_ with their long-overdue for a cut hair, though neither of them really lived on the street anymore at the time, because the photo was taken by Stephanie on a night out during one of their pub-crawls when they first came to London. But it still makes him smile despite their unruly hair and poor clothes (even Bradley dressed down for the occasion), and it's because they look happy, so content with actually not having much at all but each other, and it's the possessive arm Bradley keeps over Colin that makes Colin want to go back to the bedroom and just kiss him stupid to wake him up instead of his morning alarm; it's the one thing he can't get enough of, the sure, unwavering hold of Bradley's that never disappoints and is ever-present, in public _or_ when they're at home, and makes Colin feel like he _belongs_. To Bradley. And the thought is still as much intoxicating as it is insane to perceive.

 

The last photo of the collage is one of Bradley alone, and when Colin first framed the trio Bradley actually protested how it's not fair that he gets to be in two out of three, but Colin just pinched his ass in response, and that was that with Bradley complaining.

Colin loves that photo of him, he does; it was during one of their museum trips that Bradley found an empty armour of some knight and naturally fell in love with it. They waited for the guard to turn his back on them and then Colin snapped this photo of Bradley - his idiot of a man who holds hands with armoured knights in museums and it never fails to make Colin smile when he looks at it.

 

But nothing, however, can really compete with the next framed photograph. Out of all they have, this is probably his _actual_ favourite one, and he knows why, exactly, as well.

 

It's because of the two people in it, and the sheer happiness they radiate. The photo was taken by a stranger, but Colin couldn't be more grateful because they pressed the button at the most opportune millisecond they possibly could. That whole day felt pretty surreal, almost magical and Colin thinks of it with such fondness in his heart it sometimes makes him ache.

He remembers how nervous they were, how nervous _Bradley_ was, in particular - after a year of e-mail and phone correspondence with his father, they finally set up a date for him to come and see them in London, and before they went to pick him up at the station, the air was charged with something intense. The handshakes and first words were tentative and polite, but Colin couldn't thrive on empty social conventions and took matters into his own hands.

 

He took Bradley’s dad to a pub, much to Bradley's horror and amusement.

 

The decision proved to be one of the best Colin's ever made, because all three of them relaxed soon afterwards, though Colin suspects beer had something to do with it, and they chatted away as if they did this every _week_. Colin even went as far as telling Bradley’s dad his theory on Santa recruits and him as the CEO of the company, which resulted in the elder James nearly crying with laughter. It was at one of the more popular tourist attractions that Colin fished out his camera and asked a passer-by to snap a shot of them.

They were all still laughing about the Santas, and at something Bradley's just said, his father looking so clearly happy and content, and it was _this_ , the contagious kind of laughter that made Colin love the photo so much.

 

Next person in it, no less important or loved because it was _Bradley_ , obviously, stared on with such childlike wonder in his eyes, as if he can't quite believe this is his life now, that made Colin almost tearful if he looked at him for longer periods of time. It was one of his best memories, of two people reconnecting for real, not just via internet messages, and re-entering into each other's lives. Colin thought he himself looks kind of ridiculous, really, his face frozen mid-talk and thus appearing _challenged_ , to not insult anyone, but he's willing to let it slide because of the two people positioned next to him.

 

*****

 

He's shaken out of his reverie by the sound of footsteps that echo down the hall towards the kitchen. He knows it's Bradley - who else could it _be_ , Darth Vader? His name isn't Luke and he _knows_ who his father is, even if he might actually prefer good old Darthy on that position.

 

"Morning."

"Hey. You seen babygirl anywhere?"

"Alli? Yeah she's in the bedroom, watching the snow."

"I wonder why she didn't come for her milk when I called her."

"You know she only answers to Alli."

"Yes and whose fault is that?"

Bradley grins back at him as he pours himself some tea as well.

"I wasn't going to train her as _Gallifrey_."

"Yeah but she's my little stealing magpie, and she won't answer to Maggie."

Bradley responds with mock seriousness."First world problems are a bitch, aren't they."

"Ass."

Colin is still chuckling when Bradley joins him by the window.

"Plans for today?"

"Oh, I'll be a good housewife, seeing you off."

"No shelter stuff?"

"Yeah but I'll be working at home for most of the day. We're putting together care parcels, each of us fifty-ish boxes. They're picking me up later with a van and we'll distribute them."

Colin feels good about this. When Bradley landed a pretty good job and they moved out of the twins’ place (they told Colin he can stay, which lead to sibling bickering to whom Colin actually belongs, as he stood off to the side and watched, a little bit amused and whole lot moved, and then told the girls that they’re _fab_ , but that their brother gives blow jobs to _die_ for, which lead to snorting on Natalie and Stephanie’s side and blushing on Bradley's), Colin started working at the local homeless shelter. He felt bad, at first, sort of inadequate but keeping it all in, until one night Bradley coaxed it out of him and Colin admitted that he thought Bradley would be mad, seeing he's bringing home a considerably higher monthly income than Colin.

Bradley proceeded to tell him he's an idiot and to go do whatever makes him happy.

 

And it did. He didn't like seeing people homeless, of course not, but he understood these people better than other workers there. He could _relate_. He reached out to them in a different way, and Colin loved the sense of fulfilment that came with a job well done - he knew first-hand what a warm meal or temporary shelter from the cold weather meant to someone who has nothing.

Bradley rubbed Colin’s back and leaned in for a kiss.

"Sounds good. Gonna hop under the shower, and then I'm off, yeah?"

 

*****

 

**_from: my companion_ **

colin

 

** from: Dr Colin **

no, this is alli

 

**_from: my companion_ **

i see

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

yeah. he's busy, do you want to leave a message for him?

 

**_from: my companion_ **

what's he doing then

 

** from: Dr Colin **

knitting

 

**_from: my companion_ **

knitting

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

oh yeah. he says it's much better than jogging or yoga or other stress relieve stuff

 

**_from: my companion_ **

and what exactly is he knitting?

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

condoms

 

**_from: my companion_ **

tell him he's an idiot

**  
**

** from: Dr Colin  **

he says he's knitting them because you keep forgetting to get new ones

 

**_from:  my companion_ **

i'll get a box of 100 if he promises to take all of his handy work down to the shelter instead

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

colin thinks you'd look nice with a woollen condom on your cock

 

**_from: my companion_ **

i'm gonna stick one on his head. also i am not discussing this with a cat.

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

don't forget a box of tuna for me

 

**_from: my companion_ **

right. condoms and tuna, the cashier won't look at me funny at all

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

they have this thing called self-service now

 

**_from: my companion_ **

cheeky cat

 

** from: Dr Colin **

;3

 

**_from: my companion_ **

ANYWAY. i just texted to let you know dad confirmed his Xmas dinner attendance

 

**  
**

** from: Dr Colin  **

yay!

 

**_from: my companion_ **

he said he'll call later to talk to you about the menu

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

oh, HA. why does everybody think i’m the housewife xD

 

**_from: my companion_ **

i thought i was talking to alli

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

this is she, yes

 

**_from: my companion_ **

liar. also he said he's coming because he wants to be with his family

 

**_from: my companion_ **

that means you included, colin

 

**_from: my companion_ **

colin

 

**_from: my companion_ **

don't be sad :<

 

**_from: my companion_ **

we'll keep on looking for your mum. i promise.

 

** from:  Dr Colin  **

i love you

 

**_from: my companion_ **

i know :)

**  
**

** from: Dr Colin **

so much

 

**_from: my companion_ **

shut up, i'm not supposed to be grinning at my excel table

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

you're grinning at your excel table

 

**_from: my companion_ **

for ten minutes now, yes

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

sometimes i grin at furniture too

 

**_from: my companion_ **

what?

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

what?

 

**_from: my companion_ **

oh nevermind. but you're not really knitting me a condom, are you?

 

** from: Dr Colin **

nah

 

**_from: my companion_ **

thank fuck. i know you'd make me wear it, it'd get all scratchy and shit

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

i'm making something better

 

**_from: my companion_ **

what's that

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

strawberry jam

 

**_from: my companion_ **

oh yum

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

we can try it as lubricant later :Đ

 

**_from: my companion_ **

colin oh my god xD

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

must go pack boxes now

 

**_from: my companion_ **

will you be back by the time i get home

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

yes. now go earn us some money :P

 

**_from: my companion_ **

you're lucky you're cute. thanks for this though :) the office has been terribly boring today

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

don't thank me now. thank me later when you lick sweet goo off of me

****

**_from: my companion_ **

you're hopeless

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

you know you're looking forward to it

 

**_from: my companion_ **

i am

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

;D

****

**_from: my companion_ **

love you too, Colin x

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

<3

 

** from: Dr Colin  **

and alli was serious about that tuna!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're still here, I salute you, you brilliant people :D 
> 
> cheers!
> 
> ~moxy


End file.
